


The Knight and The Possum

by StopDroppingBabyYoda



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Baby Yoda's nickname is Bean, Eventual Smut, F/M, Force-Sensitive Reader, I don't watch Star Wars but i'll try not to butcher this, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Is set before the show but will tie into it eventually, Reader has a special bond with baby yoda, Reader-Insert, Spoilers, Your nickname is Possum, not by mando obviously, there is an age difference but nothing happens until reader is mid-twenties
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:48:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 53,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21905467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StopDroppingBabyYoda/pseuds/StopDroppingBabyYoda
Summary: “My Mum calls me Possum sometimes. Did you know that too?”He takes a moment to reply, most likely wondering why he’s bothering to entertain a child when he should be inside, receiving his payment. “No,” he says evenly.“Oh,” you repeat, wishing you had more to say. It’s not everyday you meet a hero – and this was your own personal one, wasn’t it? He did come here to take care of the bad guy, after all. With that thought in mind, you find yourself asking weakly, “Did you make the bad man go away?”A small sigh escapes him and he steps away from the door – towards you. He kneels so he’s closer to your height and nods at you. “I did,” he rasps with a slight crack in his voice. “He can’t hurt you any more, little one.”
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s), Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Character, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader
Comments: 465
Kudos: 1489





	1. Chapter 1

Your parents were angry. Mum cried; sobbed, rocking you in her arms whilst Dad paced looking as if he wanted to hurt something other than the hard-back books he’d just punched in the library. 

  
“My poor baby,” your Mum kept hiccupping. “Oh, Possum, I’m so sorry…” 

  
You shouldn’t have said anything. He told you bad things would happen if you told anyone. You should have listened. 

  
Your lip quivers as fresh tears rush to surface, your face burrowing into your mothers neck. You wanted to feel safe. You never felt safe any more.

  
“I want him dealt with,” your Dad growls. “I’ll kill him for this. For touching my child.”

  
You flinch at the words, at the reminder.

  
“You can’t, darling,” your Mum says tearfully. “If something happens – we can’t lose you too – we need you right now.” She squeezes you tighter, her voice dropping to a dark whisper. “Can’t you hire someone?”

  
Dad must approve of the idea because later that night, a strange man is knocking at the large, expensive doors of your home.

  
You sneak out of bed, having been unable to sleep anyway. Your little mind was plagued with memories you wished to forget; you hoped you’d at least forget them as your grew older, if you couldn’t any time soon.

  
Your feet slide into your blue bunny slippers before you descended down the huge staircase which lead into the even bigger downstairs hall-way. The library door was open and you could hear voices, one in particular you couldn’t recognise.

  
Knowing your parents wouldn’t approve of you being out of bed, you sat down quietly, curious to know who had entered your house at such a late hour, but knowing it must have been to do with what you’d confessed to your parents earlier that day.

  
“I know you don’t usually meet with clients personally but I wanted to make sure you understood the gravity of the situation,” your Dad says, uncontainable rage still in his voice. 

  
You wonder if it’ll ever go away, or if he’ll forever be like this – because of you. 

  
“Go on,” a raspy voice responds.

  
You definitely don’t recognise him. He sounds as if he’s standing in front of Dad’s desk and you slip your bottom down another step, leaning a little to the left so your view inside of the room shifts – and there he is, leaning casually against the window, foot crossed in front of the other with gloved fingers resting on top of one-another over his belt.

  
Your lips part, a small gasp catches. 

  
He reminds you of a knight in the stories your Mum reads you before bed. Tales of armoured men saving Princesses and Princes from bad guys and dragons. You couldn’t see his face as it was covered by a dented and scuffed blue helmet, the rest of his body a mix-match of what appeared to be different coloured metals and leather gauntlets tied around his wrists.* 

  
“Cool,” you whisper in amazement.

  
“My child - who is only 7 years – was, to put it bluntly, molested by who we thought was a family friend,” Dad grits out. 

  
You didn’t know what that word meant, but you could guess. You hug your knees tight, the evil man with a smile which reminds you of a fox flashing through your head. 

  
Your Dad continues, “I want him tortured. I want him to pay for what he’s done. I want him dead.” You swallow thickly at that, nerves in your belly. “But he needs to suffer before that happens. Ran told me he knew someone for the job.”* He pauses. Lets his words sink in. “Are you that someone, Mandalorian?”

  
The knight’s – Mandalorian’s? - posture changed when his reason for being there was revealed. His body now stiff, you watch anxiously as the metal man takes a moment to think, fingers tapping. 

  
And then as if he can feel your gaze, his helmet turns in your direction.

  
You blink back at him, lips pressed against your knees, covered by the fabric of your blue night-gown. You worry he’ll give you up – tell your Dad about your eaves-dropping – but he just stares at you with a tilted head. 

  
Unsure what to do, you hesitantly lift your hand and give him a small wave. 

  
His gaze remains unmoving for a few heart-beats longer before he’s turning back to your Dad with a firm nod, as if he hadn’t seen you at all.

  
“I am,” he confirms, reminding you of a robot.

  
You make your way back to bed before your Dad can catch you, and dream of small, scared Possum running from a hungry, greedy fox.

  
–

  
It was a week later and your Mother didn’t cry every time she looked at you any more, but you could still see the tears in her eyes. It wasn’t the first time you regretted telling them. The man with a fox’s grin had been right – Bad things did happen because you told on him. 

  
You wonder if they’ll ever look at you the same way. You wonder why you let him do those things – why you had to ruin everything. The guilt and pain and grubby feeling on your skin never would go away completely. Neither would the nightmares.

  
You swig mindlessly under the branch of the old tree in the central garden. It was the only outside area behind the house you were allowed access to, the others belonging to your mothers flower beds and fathers green house. 

  
The swing used to give you hours of entertainment but it wasn’t something you found joy in any more; you struggled to find happiness in any of your toys, too. The fox robbed you of more than just your innocence. 

  
You wasn’t even able to enjoy your favourite bed-time stories any more.

  
Movement catches your eye, the path to the front of the house just about visible from the space between the brick wall hiding the kitchen and the start of the hedges which surrounded the gardens. It’s only for a few seconds but you’d recognise that helmet anywhere.

  
Before you can think, you hop off your swing and run as fast as your little legs can carry you.

  
You’re panting by the time you round the house, catching the armoured man just before he manages to knock on the door. He must hear your heavy breathing, and pitter-patter of your feet before you come to a stop, because he pauses, tilting his head down towards you curiously.

  
“Hi,” you greet quietly, chest heaving. It hadn’t been a far run but combined with short legs, it had been a hard one. “My name is-”

  
“I know who you are,” he interrupts. 

  
“Oh.” You shift on your feet, eyes darting from each piece of his armour to the next. You’re in awe of him, but not sure what to say; you just want to talk to this man from the stories your Mum used to read you. “My Mum calls me Possum sometimes. Did you know that too?”

  
He takes a moment to reply, most likely wondering why he’s bothering to entertainment a child when he should be inside, receiving his payment. “No,” he says evenly.

  
“Oh,” you repeat, wishing you had more to say. It’s not everyday you meet a hero – and this was your own personal one, wasn’t it? He did come here to take care of the bad guy, after all. With that thought in mind, you find yourself asking weakly, “Did you make the bad man go away?”

  
A small sigh escapes him and he steps away from the door – towards you. He kneels so he’s closer to your height and nods at you. “I did,” he rasps with a slight crack in his voice. “He can’t hurt you any more, little one.”

  
You nod back, relief filling you and you wonder if maybe, you can start to feel safe again. You had one more question. “If there’s more bad guys who want to hurt me, will you make them go away, too?” you ask almost pleadingly.

  
You need to know that there’s someone watching over you. You need that reassurance so you can start to heal. Your own knight in miss-matching, dented armour. Just like the stories you loved so much. 

  
“I will,” he vows just as the door opens and your father comes out. He calls you over to his side but before you go, you rush forward and hug your knight good-bye. 

  
“Thank you,” you whisper against him. He doesn’t hug you back, but you can feel the warmth of his embrace none-the-less.

  
–

  
“Mum, can you read to me again?” you ask as your mother kisses you goodnight. 

  
She blinks in surprise, a piece of her hair falling from behind her ear where she bent over you. “Of course!” She shakes herself out of the shock, it had been so long since you wanted to hear one. She perches on the edge of your bed and turns your light on low.

  
“Once upon a time…” Her soft voice begins.

  
A smile curls your lips, your heart filling with joy for the first time since you can remember, and it was because of him. You cuddle into your blanket, eyes falling shut and she delves deeper into the story, slowly lulling you to sleep.

The story eventually comes to an end, her voice quieter so not to wake you. “-and it was all thanks to the hero; the knight in shining armour who saves them, and restores the kingdom back to it’s former state, allowing everyone to live happy, ever, after.”

  
The smile stays on your lips as she places on last kiss on your head. You fall into restful slumber, dreaming of a scuffed metal Knight saving the Possum, and ridding it’s world of the evil, greedy fox.

No. Not a scuffed knight.

  
… _A Mandalorian._

\--

***Mandos armour is different because he is younger. Younger as in early twenties, so I’m thinking he’s got some kind of starter armour like out of an RPG game, hence the leather gauntlets.**

  
***Ran(From episode 5) mentioned doing jobs with Mando in the past so I used Ran as a link between Readers Dad and getting Mando for a job. I feel like the jobs they did were more sinister than the capture and retrieve he does in the show.**


	2. Chapter 2

A year later has your parents filled with concern when you start speaking to yourself.

  
They hear you in your room at night, chatting away happily with a flash-light under your covers. You speak of your days events, of The Mandalorian, of overcoming problems no matter how big or small; words much too wise for a child of your age to have knowledge of. 

  
“It’s an imaginary friend,” your Nanna tells them. “It’s normal for children to have them.”

  
“But…at that age?” Your Dad asks, worried. “What if it’s because of what happened?”

  
Your Mum nods in agreement. “It could be a coping mechanism. We should find someone for Possum to speak to.”

  
Dad approves of the idea and pushes himself away from the kitchen counter. “I’ll make some calls.”

  
–

  
“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?” your mother questions the funny looking lady with gray hair tied back in a loose bun. She kind of reminds you of your Nanna, only your Nanna chooses to crochet for fun, whereas this look-a-like uses her time to ask you weird questions and scribble in her red drawing book.

  
“Your child simply has an overactive imagination,” Ms. Arna, you remember her name as, soothes your Mumma’s concerns. “It’s a good thing. If you want my advice, help them channel it. Encourage them to draw, or write. Let them use their imagination creatively. Children thrive when they can express themselves in ways they love.”

  
You stop listening half-way through, a silent giggle on your lips as you stared at the space opposite you, observing your admittedly strange looking, ‘imaginary’ friend. 

  
His green over-sized ears - entirely too big for his oval shaped head – twitch at you. A tiny red tongue pokes out between thin lips, ears bobbing along with the funny faces he pulls. You mirror them back at him, both of you sitting on the ground whilst the adults speak.

  
You were a small child. Smaller than the other 8-year old’s in your class, and yet you dwarfed your green friend with eyes the size of small dinner plates, who barely reaches your waist. 

  
Your lips curve when his giggles sound in your ears. You weren’t always able to see him, but somehow he seemed to appear whenever you needed him the most. Like right now.

  
His baby-like laugh trails off into a familiar coo and he holds up a chubby three fingered hand. You do the same, placing your palm against his. Of course, he wasn’t really there so you couldn’t feel anything solid, just the whisper of a touch, a ghost of a presence your mother persistently denied existing.

  
You didn’t know if what they said was true – you simply made him up to help get over your trauma – but you didn’t care. There was only a few people you trusted in this world now, other than your parents and The Mandalorian, and your little Green Bean had quickly worked his way into that circle.

  
“I don’t care what they say,” you whisper, “You’re real to me.”

  
Warmth spreads through you, reminding you of a hug, and he coos again.

  
–

  
You learn not to speak, or interact, in an obvious manner with Bean when your parents are around.

  
They ask too many question. 'What is he saying?’, 'What is he doing?’ 'What does he look like?’ You can’t tell them his true appearance; they were already so fretful over his existence, you had no idea how they’d react finding out he was a different species all together.

  
Your little Bean seems to catch onto your nerves when they’re present, and stays silent, content with sitting next to you and playing with his claws feet or robes. As you grow older, he appears more and more. And by the time you begin your adolescent years, he’s a near constant companion.

  
At 13 your parents believe he’s long gone. But in reality, you’d just got better at hiding him. Part of you begins to question his reality when he fails to age with you, nor does he grow in height. The only difference you think you can see in him is another inch on his ears, but it’s not like you measured them so you couldn’t say for sure.

  
Age 15 brings embarrassment when you meet a boy at school who asks you out on a date, and you dress up all pretty. The date itself goes well, but then he starts to get too handsy in the park by your house and you nervously let him – you were already ruined in that way, what point was there to stop him? If anything, he’d like you more for it, and it’s not as if you often had chances to find boys who actually liked you, what with the rumours of your past circulating around town.

  
So you kind of zone out at his fingers explore places which make you feel funny – not in a good way, but in a cold, numb familiar way. But you still don’t stop him. You wonder if this is part of the trauma. 

  
That’s when your Green Bean shows up and you immediately push the boy away. You tell Bean, no, and hiss at him to go away. He only looks at you sadly. He can sense your distress at what was happening and it only made you feel worse. 

  
The boy calls you crazy and you realise that to him, you were talking to yourself. You run home crying and spend the next week trying to ignore Bean’s existence. Had your parents been right about your 'imaginary friend’? Up until now you’d never been concerned about him. But then again, you’d never accidentality spoke to him in front of someone from school before. Ugh.

  
But he’s your best friend, and you can’t ignore him for long, not when you can feel the warmth of his hugs even as you sit with your back to him. Soon enough, you’re crying out your apologizes to him and he just coos acceptingly. 

  
Mum and Dad hear the rumours and start questioning you again. You lie, and lie, and lie until they reluctantly believe you. What good would telling them do? You’d just get sent back to Ms. Arna.

  
9 years pass along with your 24th birthday. Your connection to Bean was as strong as ever. Only, something was changing. Before, you could only feel him when he appeared to you but that grew into feeling him even when he wasn’t there. You could sense how he felt emotionally, and him you, something which had developed over time. You learnt to use this in a way which almost allowed you to have wordless conversations with him, because he still didn’t talk.

  
Shortly after your birthday, you felt a pull. It was almost like a tether only you didn’t know which direction it came from, only that you needed to follow. Bean become more and more distressed. He was sad. And scared; worried. You wish he could tell you why instead of gazing at you with big, watery eyes. 

  
And then one-day, you were sent a small package through the intergalactic post. 

  
Curiously you opened it, revealing a square item with what appeared to be an antenna in the shape of a pyramid forming from the top, and a red blinking light. You’d seen one of these before.

  
“A tracking fob,” you murmur, rubbing your thumb over the face of it. You check the name on the package again, just making sure it was definitely for you. When your name stares back, with the correct planet and address, you furrow your eyebrows.

  
And then the pull inside you is back with full force, so strong you almost lose your balance; your centre of gravity feeling like it’s shifting. Your hand lands on the kitchen counter, trying to steady yourself. It takes a moment to go away, and you blink, Bean suddenly appearing in front of you. 

  
Huh.

  
“Hey, Bean,” you greet. You’d wondered where he’d gotten to today. 

  
He babbles at you, waddling forward until your feet are almost touching. The cuff’s on his oversize jacket hang as he reaches a small hand up in the direction of the fob and makes a grabby hand, ears twitching. 

  
You don’t like the urgency you feel coming off of him in waves.

  
“You…want this?” you question, holding out the fob, although it’s not as if he can take it from you. You’d long learned the limits of your connection to him.

  
He shakes his head, ear flapping as noises escape his mouth. Again, he gestures to it and then points to you.

  
And then to himself.

  
Your heart seizes when you realise what he was trying to tell you. 

  
The fob will lead you…to him.


	3. Chapter 3

It both terrified you and excited you.

  
You wanted nothing more than to meet him. When you were younger, he was like your sibling. A cute, strange, baby brother you'd always wanted. But as you got older and your maternal instincts formed, you began to feel protective over him in a way only a mother figure, or aunt, could. This instinct became especially strong with his recent feelings of unhappiness. 

  
_Your little Bean needed you._

  
Meeting him; being able to care for him in person and confirm his actual existence was something you'd always dreamed of. Your adrenaline spiked and you itched to pack your things so you could go find him already. 

  
But at the same time, you were scared. You'd have to do this journey alone; you'd never travelled in space alone before. But your parents would not approve so it's not as if one of them could join you, which was a small problem, considering they were the only way you knew how to get off of your planet. 

  
Bean whimpers at your silence; the last emotion he'd picked up from you was fear, and he must have taken that as a negative to his request. 

  
Heart squeezing, you kneel down, and think of warmth; of a hug; and of love, projecting those feelings straight at him because you couldn't hold him physically. 

  
_Yet._

  
“I'm coming,” you vow. You didn't know why he was so upset lately, but you would fix it, or help him at least. You just needed to find him first. “If it's the last thing I do, Bean, I'll find you.”

  
–

  
Your parents were the founders of _G-Parts_ , otherwise known as _Galactic Parts_. They sold scrap from old spaceships or similar crafts. And boy did they make a fortune from it. 

  
Money had never been an issue going up. Your home had it's own bank vault built under the library, reinforced with layers of Plastroid, Tungsten, and finally, Beskar. Nothing was getting into it without the lock combination...

  
Which your parents had no idea you knew.

  
Stealing from your Mum and Dad wasn't something you were proud of but you didn't have access to your own money. You never needed a job because your parents provided everything for you. If you wanted to buy something, you simply asked and they gave you whatever currency you needed for it. 

  
You couldn't do that right now, considering a) the amount you needed was too suspicious and b) they'd want to know what it was for. So stealing was your only option.

  
Luckily your parents were called away on business this morning. It makes you think of fate. 

  
You wonder if this is yours.

  
You recognise some of the money; The Beskar, the Zemid, Calarmari fan, and even the Imperial credits. The rest leaves you clueless, but you figure it's better to be safe than sorry. You're not gluttonous, just want enough to get by should you need to use it, so you don't fill your pockets greedily. 

  
_As if that somehow makes stealing from your parents acceptable_ , you think with guilt.

  
You dress in your least expensive looking clothes, not wanting to draw attention to yourself. And pack the rest of your outfits with the same line of thought. You take a sand-coloured wrap to help hide your face, should your parents find out you were missing and decide that the note you left them wasn't enough to stop a search party. You could imagine your own tracking fob being activated shortly after they've discovered your trip...

  
You check, and double check, that you have everything in your favourite travel bag before slinging it over your shoulder. You take in your room one last time and mentally say good-bye to your home. 

  
It makes you wonder when you decided that you most likely wasn't going to return. 

  
Bean stays with you as you exit the house. You both knew it was best if he was scarce for a little while since you'd be dealing with a lot of people during your journey to him, and you didn't want a repeat of what happened when you were 15.

  
He stays by the door, ears lifting in a manner you'd learnt as interest or intrigue. You kneel, smiling at him.

  
“Yes, I'm really doing this,” you laugh freely, because that's exactly how you felt – free. “I can't wait to finally meet the little green Bean whose been terrorizing me my whole life,” you tease. 

  
And prove to that he wasn't just an imaginary friend like everyone had told you. You knew he was real.

  
Bean coos at you, looking happier than you'd seen him in days. 

  
–

  
Sneaking into Galactic Parts Delivery station was easy considering the employees recognised you as the bosses kid.

  
“Dad asked me to come in and sort some paperwork since he was called away this morning,” you told anyone who questions it. And why wouldn't they believe you?

  
Your first stop was at the computer terminals by the delivery bay. You put in the planetary co-ordinates you'd found scratched into the back of the tracking fob. The computer takes a moment to search, and then:

  
**Arvala-7.**

  
Your eyes trail over the information known about the planet. “1 sun. Class: Terrestrial. Primary terrain: Desert,” you murmur as you read, thinking how it's a good thing you brought your head wrap if you were going to be wandering around a desert planet.

  
You scan through the known fauna of the planet(Mudhorn, Blurrgs, multiple species of lizard, to name a few), before landing on locations of interest. One of them sticks out to you: 

  
“Kuill's moisture farm,” you read out-loud. 

  
All right; now you have an address.

  
You find the search bar and, even though you know it's highly unlikely, you search for: **Arvala-7 + Kuill.**

  
A single result appears. _Oh._

  
Records show _G-Parts_ had delivered to him in the past, which was good, but there wasn't any out-going orders, which is what you'd hoped for. Never-mind; you had more tricks up your sleeve. 

  
You quickly print off the planetary co-ordinates, along with Kuill's address, before clearing all evidence of your search from the computer. And then you head to the packaging warehouse.

  
A few employees recognise you along the way, and you change your story because your 'paperwork' line would no longer work with your new destination.

  
“My Dad really needs this sent off today,” you tell the man who's in charge of packaging when he questions your presence. You tap your bag. “It's for a really important client, but he was called away on business so asked me to sort it. I can contact him, if you want,” you smile sweetly.

  
“No, it's okay,” the man tells you, holding a data-pad against the front of his blue jump-suit uniform. “Just let me know if you need any help.” You thank him as he moves aside and lets you through.

  
It was almost too easy.

  
It felt rude to stick the label onto an empty package. So before you locate the packaging, you slip into the stock warehouse next door and search through the computers for anything Moisture-Vaporator related. There was one spare part, something to help with _iozination_. You have no idea what it means but figure it was better than turning up empty handed. So you find the stock number and a worker robot retrieves it for you. 

  
You place the part which reminds you of a small radiator of some kind inside of the right sized package before sticking the label in place. You have no idea how you were pulling this off so well, but you wasn't going to complain.

  
–

  
The delivery port was full of spaceships continuously coming and going. They were independent contractors, paid by your parents per package they delivered. Finding the ones who delivered to your area of interest was simple - you just typed in the co-ordinates into the delivery terminal and received a hanger number in response.

  
You half-walk half-run towards your destination, the wind caused by launch thrusters blowing your wrap down off your head. It was noisy; you could barely hear yourself think. The package gets heavier in your hands as your arms grow tired. 

  
You reach the hanger and find a BR-23 courier ship docked. As you approach, the hanger door lifts open with a mechanical whoosh, and you step inside.

  
No turning back now. 

  
A small(around a foot shorter than you), blueish green, reptilian like alien greets you with a nod. His body was covered by armour which resembled steel. You wonder why a courier even needs armour, but don't question him. 

  
“Hi,” you greet back, hoping he's friendly, considering the request you were about to make...

  
He gestures to the corner of the ship where a small pile of packages sat, locked into place by black straps. 

  
You place it down near them, watching as he approaches and straps that package down, too. 

  
“Actually, there's something I need to ask you.” You shift on your feet nervously, fingers curled around the handle of your bag as it rests against your shoulder. “That, ah, package is for...my family.” A courier wouldn't recognise you, so you felt secure in the lie. “I was hoping I could travel with it and deliver it myself.” You give a nervous smile.

  
“Ok,” he grunts simply without turning around. 

  
“Are you sure?” Did he understand your question?

  
“Ok,” he repeats, snaps the strap in place and gives it a tug, before shaking the package to make sure it doesn't move too much.

  
“So you're fine with giving me a lift?” You push, wanting a clearer answer.

  
He turns, nods at you, and again, chirps an, “Ok,” before disappearing into the cockpit. 

  
“...Cool,” you mumble, glancing around. There wasn't really anywhere to sit, considering the hanger's sole purpose was for packages and not humanoid transportation, so you find a spot next to them and hold on tight to one of the straps hanging down from the wall, ready for lift off. 


	4. Chapter 4

It takes awhile for you to fall asleep to the sound of the hyperdrive. Although you had been on a few ships during your life time – mostly related to your parents work and sometimes, a planned vacation – none of them felt like you were travelling inside of a rattling can _barely_ holding itself together as it slingshots through space.

  
It was unsettling, to say the least. You wonder what the pilot does with the money he earns because clearly, he didn't invest it into his ship. 

  
As you rest, your mind goes wild. _Dreams of a Possum running freely with it's cute green friend, and a Knight in shining beskar watching over them protectively; three figures exiting a ship, the details of it hazy and unidentifiable; A large waterfall crashing against crystal clear water underneath it; a forest of trees acting as a barrier between them and the rest of the planet. Bean squeals and shares a look with the Possum before they rush ahead, the knight voicing his concerns behind them -_

You're brought out of your slumber suddenly. The courier is standing over you, gesturing to the open hanger. You guess that you'd arrived.

  
“Ok,” he chirps.

  
“Ok,” you parrot back. You wish you could go back to your dream, filled with your two favourite people and a breathtakingly beautiful planet, but finding Bean was top priority. 

  
You could day-dream later. 

  
You pull yourself up and slide your bag back onto your shoulder. There was no difference in the amount of packages strapped down onto the ship, telling you that you'd been the first delivery. 

  
The courier had already freed your package and you bend down to pick it up when something occurs to you – you should probably pay him. Especially because the package he'd delivered wasn't in the computer systems – it didn't exist - and he wasn't going to be getting paid for it (something he wasn't aware of). 

  
Not to mention, he'd given you a ride expecting nothing in return. 

  
“Uh, here.” You reach into your bag and pull out two different currencies. He looks reluctant but you insist and he picks the one you don't recognise. Which is good, because you wouldn't have a clue where to use them anyway. “Thanks again,” you smile before grabbing the package with both hands and walking out of the hanger. 

  
He gives a hand movement you decide is his species version of a wave, along with a parting, “Ok.”

  
You watch as the hanger door closes and the ship actives it's launch thrusters, kicking up sand and dirt as it parts from the ground, becoming smaller and smaller until it's nothing but a dot leaving the planets atmosphere.

  
Air fills your lungs as you take a breath. No turning back now. You were as good as stranded. Anxiety gnaws at you but you know this is the right thing to do. This was your destiny; Not locked away in that big lonely house.

  
Turning, you spot a structure in the distance. Actually, several. A moisture farm. You recognise the vaporators. Shifting the package in your hand for a better grip, you head towards it. 

  
–

  
In all honesty, you were a little lost as to what to do now you'd more-or-less arrived at your destination.

  
You'd anticipated it to be much harder, maybe even impossible to find your little Bean (not that you'd located him just yet, but the beeping of your tracker let you know you were close). So you hadn't really planned beyond this point. 

  
You gnaw at your lip as you approach the entrance to what appeared to be a small hut? The field of vaporators were to your left, so you knew you were in the right place. You figured you'd leave the package and go. This Kuiil guy would never know you were even here...

  
Only, you weren't sure exactly how to navigate yourself around this planet. Bean could be a weeks walk away from you yet, and you had no transportation. Perhaps you should have asked the courier to fly around a little, follow the beeping of your tracker until you stumbled across the right place...

  
Oh well. Too late now. You place the package by the entrance, trying to peek inside of the narrow passage which lead into a dome-like home. 

  
“Hello?” You call out even though you can't see anyone. 

  
“Can I help you?” A gravely voice questions from behind, almost reminding you of a worn growl, though not unkind. 

  
You spin round and try not to let the surprise show on your expression when you find yourself face-to-face with an Ugnaught male. 

  
“Oh. Uh. Hi,” you stutter. He was taller than ones you'd met in the past. 

  
He stares at you, raising his bushy white eyebrows.

  
_Right._

  
He'd asked a question. 

  
“Package.” You point to the ground, wishing you had your wrap over you head so you could hide in it. “I brought you a package.”

  
“I haven't ordered anything.” He crosses his arms over his chest. 

  
You realise then just how suspicious this must appear to him. “I'm sorry,” you say meaningfully. “I know this must seem – I'm not here to rob you or anything. _Just hear me out_.”

  
You tell him of your need to find this planet; of your way of doing so involved sending him a fake package so you could arrive with it. You leave out the details of Bean, but show him the tracking fob.

  
“You're not a hunter,” he says after a moment, looking more relaxed now that you'd explain your intentions weren't malicious towards him. 

  
You shake your head no.

  
“Many have come through here, seeking what you're looking for,” he informs you. You frown at that, not knowing how to take it. _Others were sent after Bean?_ “But their intentions were to kill or capture. Yours are...unusual.”

  
You swallow the fear which bubbles in your throat. _They wanted to kill your little friend?_ _How could anyone want to harm him!?_ “He's my friend. I just want to...make sure he's okay. And help him,” you add, because your first intentions had been to make sure he was okay, but now you wanted to make sure he _stayed_ alive. 

  
_How can Bean have a freaking bounty on him?!_ You were in disbelief. He was so harmless.

  
He takes a moment to process that. “Your friend has brought a lot of unwanted attention here. The locals are overwhelmed with the mercenaries and crooks he has attracted to the planet. I will help you,” he declares suddenly. “But only if you try and persuade him to leave here.”

  
Bean was tiny. Even if he said no, there wasn't much he could do to stop you. You know he may not like leaving but surely he must know he can't be safe here? If he was in danger like the Ugnaught claims, he needed to keep moving. “I will try my best,” you promise him. “I'm Possum, by the way.”

  
You figure you're less likely to be found if you use your nick-name. 

  
“Kuiil,” Kuiil nods at you before grabbing hold of the package. You don't tell him you already know his name. You watch as he walks past you and enters his home. “Come inside. Do you know how to ride a Blurrg?”

  
You follow him in, eyes taking in your surroundings. It was homey, for a run-down hut in the middle of a desert planet. Although his stuff appeared to have seen better days. You could tell he likes to build things from the clutter laying around. “No, I don't,” you admit. 

  
“Tomorrow, I will teach you. But first we rest. Take a seat whilst I prepare us a meal. I have spoken,” he stops any protests you have before you can make them.

  
You press your lips shut - not sure if you feel amusement or frustration from being ordered around by this (admittedly endearing) stranger - and find a seat, flinging your bag onto the ground.

  
–

  
Kuiil is a kind man, you learn. 

  
He tells you of his time as a servant working for the Galactic Empire, utilized for his skills in mechanics and craftsmanship. He earned his freedom after serving for many years. He then found the quiet planet Arvala-7 and began his work as an moisture farmer.

  
You tell him of your own up-bringing, almost guiltily. Your life (minus the unspeakable trauma that robbed you of your innocence, which you don't speak of. _Ever)_ had been a cake walk compared to his years of slavery. He doesn't make you feel bad for it, though, and listens intently, even going as far to ask questions. Conversation flows naturally between you. 

  
You think, he was becoming a friend. 

  
It was almost a shame you'd have to leave so soon. 

  
Night time approaches and Kuiil sets you up a bed on the floor. You offer to sleep outside, not wanting to intrude in his space, but he just tells you, “I have spoken,” and you can't help but smile.

You liked him.

  
When he leaves you alone to check on the Blurrg, you close your eyes and reach out to Bean. You weren't used to going so long without seeing him, and he'd been so quiet today. 

  
A happy gurgle reaches your ears and you open your eyes. He'd felt you calling for him and didn't hesitate to come. You grin, heart filling with warmth.

  
“Hi, Bean,” you hold out your hand and he waddles over to you, lifting up his palm until your hands brush. Your connection to him buzzes happily. “I've missed you.”

  
The familiar coo leaves his lips along with a tilt of his head. You can feel that he's happy to see you but still, something is bothering him. You can sense his sadness. You wonder if it's to do with the bounty hunters. “I'll be with you soon.”

  
You talk to him, quietly, for a few minutes. Tell him about your travels. He babbles with you, attempting to hold up his side of the conversation.

You hear Kuill's approach and you share one last glance before his image fades away.

  
You feel the loss of his presence immediately. You're connected to him in a way you don't understand, but you do know that you don't quite feel complete without him around. 

  
Tomorrow couldn't come quick enough.

  
–

  
Learning to ride a Blurrg came easily to you because you had ridden similar creatures in the past. Your home housed various mounts in the stables and with little else to do, you'd mastered the skill of riding them all out of pure boredom. 

  
Kuiil hadn't known that, and was impressed by what he thought was your natural ability to ride a Blurrg. You couldn't lie to him though, as tempting as it was, and told him – sheepishly - of your parents stables. 

  
He made breakfast and soon after, you set off through the desert. You made sure to place your wrap over you head, offering some protection against the heat bearing down on you. 

  
It took hours to reach the destination, the tracker in your pocket beeping more furiously the closer you got. 

  
“This is where I leave you,” Kuiil informs you, coming to a stop.

  
You nod understandingly. “Thank you so much. For everything.” You'd left him some payment back at his home, a little bit of everything, as a thanks to him. He didn't know that - you had a feeling he wouldn't accept it if he did. This way, he had no choice.

  
“It's a honour,” he says and you watch as he encourages the Blurrg to turn around.

  
You make the rest of the journey alone.

  
–

  
The terrain was uneven with fair-sized mountains of sand. Your tracker beeps wildly as you approach the edge of what almost resembles a crater. In the centre sits several buildings. 

  
Bean was in there. You didn't need a fob to tell you that much. You could feel the pull, the tether which connected you together. It had gone tight, like a loose string sudden being yanked.

  
The issue? Mercenaries littered the grounds like rats, and you didn't think they were just going to let you walk in. And you didn't trust yourself to be able to sneak in there. You wasn't an ninja. Nor could you fight them. The most you knew was basic self-defence, thanks to your mother persisting how important it was to know how to defend yourself.

  
You needed to get close...but how? If only you could talk to one of them, then maybe you could explain the situation. 

  
And... _hope they don't kill you._

  
No...this wasn't where you died. You don't know how you knew that, you just did. Everything had worked out perfectly, this was your path to walk, and it didn't end here. 

  
You glance down at the wrap which hung loosely around your neck. It was the same colour as the sand, a few shades darker than the colour white...

  
Biting your lip from where you laid low against the ground, the Blurrg several paces behind you, you removed the material from your head and twisted a portion of it around your hand. 

  
You take a deep breath.

  
...Before raising your hand and waving it through the air with your wrap trailing behind it, high enough for them to see. 

  
The shouting tells you you've been spotted, just like you wanted. Anxiously, you place your wrap back around your neck. While your instincts told you this would turn out just fine, you couldn't help but be nervous. 

  
_What if your instincts were wrong?_

  
“Oh boy,” you mutter, trying to steady your breathing as the foot steps can be heard just over the edge of where you'd been peeking. You kneel just before they arrive, raising your hands in surrender. 

  
_This is such a stupid thing to do._ You wonder if you really had lost your mind along time ago.

  
The first figure appears, gun raised right in your face. You gulp. It was a Nikto. Yep, these guys were definitely mercenaries. You briefly wonder who hired them but the thought quickly disappears because you had more pressing matters to deal with. 

  
“I'm not here to hurt anyone,” you tell him as more appear at his sides. Three in total. “I'm just looking for someone. He's small, and green with huge ears. And eyes. And-”

  
The Nikto on the left nudges the middle one and holds up a crumpled piece of paper. They glance at it, and then at you, before shifting their gaze to each other. They have a silent conversation before the middle one steps forward and grabs you arm.

  
You don't fight despite the panic welling up inside you. They not-so-gently force you to walk between them, guiding you down the slope which leads to the compound. 

  
At least they aren't pointing weapons at you any more.

  
You're breathing heavily as you walk past the other Nikto's, all watching you closely. You walk straight down the middle, buildings on both your left and right side, until you reach the larger building in front. 

  
As if sensing you, the door opens just as the Nikto brings you to a stop. You blink as an old, fragile looking lady with grey hair pulled back into a long French plait, hanging over her left shoulder, approaches you slowly.

  
“You're h-here,” she greets warmly with a shaky voice. With the help of a walking cane, she steps towards you. “You're finally here.”

  
You wonder how the hell she's still standing; she looks ready to collapse at any second. “Yes,” you respond, not knowing what else to say. 

  
“We've waited for so long. I-I was worried you wouldn't make it in time,” she talks to you as if you were old friends. A part of you feels like you know her, but that couldn't be. She shoos away the Nikto's and takes your arm in their place. They back away. “Come. Please. He's s-so excited.”

  
 _Bean?_ Your gaze shoots over to her. 

  
“Yes,” she gives you a beautiful smile. And she was – beautiful, that is. The wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, and her sagging skin with a fragile appearance took nothing away from her natural beauty. “He's here.”

  
Despite her being the one guiding you, you help her walk by taking her weight on your arm and holding her steady. The door closes behind you once you're fully inside. 

  
“Who are you?” You have to know, your insides buzzing with excitement. 

  
_You'd made it. You'd found him._

  
You can hear how hard it is for her to take a breath. Gosh, you can't imagine she has much longer to live. Your excitement vanishes as your insides squeeze with worry.

  
“I'm his care-taker, dear,” she informs you as you slowly make your way through the room. “But I don't have l-long left,” she says, mirroring your thoughts. “It's why we've brought y-you here.”

  
It must have been her who sent the tracking fob. You knew Bean wouldn't have been able to. He was just a baby.

  
She comes to a stop, a hacking cough shaking her form. You place your hand on the arm which is hooked through yours. “Are you okay?” you ask, brows furrowed in concern. 

  
She ignores your question. “T-there's not much time. He's very special, you s-see. There's people after h-him. Bad people.” As she tries to explain, her body gives out and you grab her, slowly lowering her to the ground where you kneel. Her cane lays forgotten on the ground. “He can do-do extraordinary things, our boy.”

  
You nod, trying to register her words but you were too preoccupied with her well-being at that moment. “Can I get you some water?”

  
“I hired them t-to keep him safe,” she tells you. You sense she has a lot she wants to explain but not much time. You wish you'd arrived sooner. You feel tears stinging your eyes when you realise you were going to watch her die. “They'll k-keep you both safe for a long time. You just n-need to look after him. Please,” she whispers, a weak hand gripping your wrap and pulling you closer.

  
You stare into her green, tired eyes. “I-I-” Everything was so much to take in, you struggled to find words.

  
“You're his care-taker now, P-Possum.” Her breaths were few and far between. “Take care of him a-and – and -” she chokes up, eyes fluttering. “He'll take – take care of – of you...” The hand on your wrap falls and you watch with wide, frightened eyes as her body goes limp.

  
It takes you a few seconds to process that _yes_ , she was dead, _yes_ you just witnessed a sweet old lady die, _yes_ the tears were following freely now, and _yes_ she'd just confirmed that Bean was here and it was now your responsibility to keep him safe. 

  
You stare down at her peaceful expression, now free of pain. Her lips almost looked like they were curled into a smile, as if she could rest happily knowing her boy wouldn't be alone. 

  
A choked sob leaves your lips with your exhale. You didn't realise you'd been holding your breath. You go to lay her down, thinking about how you should give her a proper burial, when a very familiar cry reaches your ears.

  
Your eyes dart upwards in front of you. A small and white circular crib floated at the other end of the room, just a few paces away, and in it, sat a very distraught green baby who'd just witnessed the death of his care-taker. 


	5. Chapter 5

“Oh Bean.” Your heart hurts at the utter devastation pouring through your connection. Who knows how long she's been with him – probably his whole life considering how young he was. She'd might have even been there for his birth...assuming that's how he came into this world. 

  
You climb to you feet and rush over to him. Tiny hands lift, reaching for you and you pick him up without hesitation. He cries and babbles into your shoulder, and you rest your nose against the soft, baby strands of white hair spaced out on his head, hushing him. He smells just like a baby with that new-born scent, with a mixture of lavender, most likely from being in close proximity with his care-taker. 

  
Underneath his anguish, you could sense his happiness. You assume it's from finally meeting you, as you felt the same way. You just wish it could have been under better circumstances. You glance behind you, at the lovely lady you'd met and lost within minutes, and sigh sadly. 

  
You had so many questions you wished you could have asked her. But it was too late now. 

  
“I'm sorry, Bean. I'm so sorry, little one,” you repeat against his soft, wrinkled skin, before placing a kiss there. You'd come here with the intentions of making everything better for him, but this wasn't something you could fix. You could, however, help him through his loss and look after him in her place. 

  
It hurt you to think about how aware he'd been of her dying. How you felt his sadness but hadn't a clue what it mean until now. 

  
_Your poor baby..._

  
Then again, could you still consider him a baby? He _had_ been around since before you entered your teens, but hadn't grown at all. He was at least 15 years of age... _As far as you knew_...

  
Hell, he could be _older_ than you. 

  
You snort mentally at the thought. 

_Yeah right._

  
Bean was still crying, although he had calmed somewhat. You were bouncing him in your arms instinctively. Glancing around, you notice how bare the surroundings were, other than clutter sitting on top of crates which sat against the sandstone walls. There was multiple doorways, telling you there was other rooms to explore. You wonder if there's a kitchen and a rest room. You wonder where he sleeps.

  
Your eyes find the place where her body was resting peacefully on the floor. Only, she was no longer there, just her long, worn, off-white dress remaining.

  
You blink, unsure what to make of it. Had she not died? Was she running around the compound... _naked?_

  
“Um, ma'am?” You question, glancing around, but there was no one. Your voice echo's and it's then you realise that Bean is no longer crying.

  
Puzzled as you felt, you somehow knew, despite her lack of body, she was no longer with you.

  
You were alone. 

  
–

  
You adapt surprisingly quick to being Bean's care-taker. The first few days were tough; learning his favourite foods, how often he wanted said foods, bed time routine, bathroom habits (surprising, he doesn't wear nappies and has a fair understanding of using the rest room, though supervision is a _must_ so he doesn't end up bathing in the toilet... _again_ ), he requires assistance being cleaned after doing his business but that was okay. He was a baby after all, so it was expected. 

  
A small pantry gave you an idea about Bean's diet. Hearty soups, dried meat, berries and nuts were a few of the foods you recognised. There was vegetables too, which resembled roots, but you had no idea how to prepare them. So you think it's best if you don't risk poisoning the baby by cooking it wrong, and throw them in the trash when he isn't looking.

  
Confirming your thoughts, the compound had a rest room and sleeping area for you, although it was far from luxurious. Your bed was a pile of blankets layered on top of a wooden crate. Luckily Bean's pod was mobile, so when night time came, you just moved him into the bedroom so you could keep a close eye on him ( _not_ that he liked sleeping in his pod anyway and used every opportunity to sneak into bed with you to snuggle). 

  
His clothing consisted of long-sleeved gowns (not including his baggy, oversized coat which was just goddamn adorable) and briefs. He didn't have any socks that you could find. Or shoes. Which you thought was odd at first, but then you tried leaving the building with him to get some fresh air and the Nikto stopped you, letting you know clearly that you were free to go outside (though _no_ further), but _he_ was to remain inside at all times. Which explained his lack of foot-protection; he didn't need it because he wasn't allowed to leave anyway. 

  
You found a few toys of his. Little hand-carved wooden figures which spent most of the time inside of his mouth. He liked to draw, too. You found a huge supply of drawing paper and crayons inside of one of the crates so he wouldn't be running out any time soon. 

  
All in all, life became a routine. The Nikto would bring new supplies whenever you ran low on food or toiletries. You didn't know where it came from and you didn't ask, mostly because you didn't get the impression they liked talking too much. Or maybe they just didn't like talking to _you_. 

  
Around the two months mark, things started to get...strange.

  
(Or strang _er_ than being called across the galaxy to meet your childhood imaginary friend and discovering he was, in fact, real and locked up in a compound with his old care-taker who died within moments of you arriving, only for her body to disappear into thin air)

  
You'd been sitting on the floor with Bean, him colouring and you drawing. He seemed to prefer filling in the pictures you created, so you made houses and drew some of the mounts you owned at home; flowers and fruits...a Mandalorian. Random things, really.

  
He'd just finished colouring a picture of a Blurrg and you grin proudly at him, praising him enthusiastically. “Oh wow! You're so good at that, Bean.”

  
He trills happily, revealing tiny rows of teeth before making a grabby hand at the next picture outline you'd done.

  
You pick it up but somehow manage to catch your thumb on the edge, leaving you with a small paper-cut. “Ouch,” you mumble, lifting your thumb and placing it in your mouth to sooth. After a moment, you remove it and examine it. It was still bleeding slightly, but all in all, nothing to worry about.

  
With your attention elsewhere, you didn't notice Bean waddling towards you until his fingers grazed yours.

  
You glance at him and give him a smile. 

  
“It's nothing – see?” you show him. His ears were back slightly, mouth down-turned. He appeared worried. “I'm okay, Bean. It's no big deal. It doesn't even hu-” you trail off as he takes his fingers off you and raises his palm instead, eyes fluttering in concentration.

  
You have no idea what he's doing, but watch curiously with a furrowed brow. Suddenly, there's a certain buzz in the air. Your eyes remain on him, so you miss the sight of your skin knitting back together, your gaze only returning to your wound when you feel a slight tickle, only to discover the cut was gone. 

  
You blink.

  
And blink again.

  
Bean stumbles backwards tiredly and you manage to react quick enough to catch him before he lands on his bottom. Instinctively you place him in your lap.

  
You don't know what to say. You can't freak out, it would scare him. You look down at him. He looks sleepy. Time for a nap, you guess. You move on auto-pilot, trying to remain calm, but you can't deny what you'd just witnessed.

  
He'd healed you. 

  
His old care-takers words echo through your mind. 

  
_“He's very special, you s-see.”_

  
_”There's people after h-him. Bad people.”_

  
_“He can do-do extraordinary things, our boy.”_

  
_“Take care of him a-and – and - he'll take – take care of – of you...”_

  
Well.

  
You gulp, looking down at your half-asleep baby. His left ear twitches at you.

  
_She wasn't wrong._

  
–

  
Time passed quickly. Days blurred together. It must have been a year, or at least that's how long it felt. You thought it would feel lonelier considering your only company was only a baby, but hadn't it always just been the two of you?

  
You saw more of his abilities. Little things. Like when he couldn't reach something he wanted, sometimes he could...call it to him. Not all the time, but sometimes. It was scary, the things he could do, but amazing at the same time.

  
And really, you wouldn't change it. You loved your new life. It had purpose. You loved being his care-taker.

  
–

  
You were busy taking the dry clothes from the washing line whilst the Nikto talked amongst themselves. You didn't know what they were saying. To you it just sounded like a series of grunts. 

  
It was mid-afternoon, so you kept your wrap up over your head. It would get progressively chillier as the evening approached but whilst the sun was bearing down on you, you needed to keep your head cool. 

  
Bean was asleep inside. You didn't like leaving him alone, especially with the mischief he got himself into. You'd quickly learnt that he was just like every toddler you'd ever met(except he needed twice the supervision because he had _freaking powers_ ), and found joy in playing with, eating, touching, or breaking just about everything and anything – hell, the more dangerous, the harder it was for him to resist. 

  
You shake your head fondly, a smile on your lips. 

  
You'd just finished taking all of Bean's clothes from the line and was about to start on your own. You glance at the Nikto, where they remained scattered around the compound, strolling, talking, searching the surroundings. They were on alert for an attack (which worryingly happened at least once a week) but otherwise appeared relaxed and almost, bored. 

  
And then you hear it. A clank noise, over and over. You frown. It reminds you a wrench hitting a pipe, or something similar. At the same time, the Nikto stop talking. Apparently they've heard it too.

  
The sound gets closer and you turn just in time to see a droid approaching the compound. 

  
Your heart seizes. It was another bounty hunter. There had been many before, but it was the first time you were outside when one approached.

The first time you'd actually _seen_ one.

  
_And it was here for Bean._

  
Of course, they _all_ _were_ , but actually _seeing_ it?

  
Knowing that if that thing had the _chance_ , it would take Bean away from _you_?

  
You were beyond _terrified_ and _angry_.

  
And then it spoke, it's voice monotonous.

  
“Sub-paragraph 16 of the-” is all you hear before two of the closest Nikto push you towards the doors of the compound and shove you inside.

  
You realise you're shaking when the doors close behind you. You know chances of it getting inside are slim, because none of them had ever got that far before, but that doesn't stop the worry worming it's way into your stomach.

  
The sound of gunfire makes you jump, your heart leaping, and you glance at Bean. He was still asleep but wouldn't be for long. You throw the clothes onto some crates and rush over to his pod . You press the button which closes the lid. You hope it will muffle some of the sound. It would be best if he slept through it. 

  
The gun-fire is non-stop and your feet take you over to the windows which were mostly hidden by empty boxes. The compound didn't have curtains, so when it came to nap-time, you'd cover them so Bean could sleep. You take off the top one and climb on top of the bottom where you peer over the ledge of the long, thin, vertical opening.

  
...and find yourself inhaling sharply with worry. 

  
You'd seen a few of these battles before.

  
But during _none_ of them had so many mercenaries been lost. 

  
Leather covered Nikto bodies littered the floor. The droid stood in the middle of the compound, arms flaying, firing and hitting it's intended targets without error. It reminded you of a turret, standing there untouched and appearing almost invincible, not missing a beat. 

  
You barely catch sight of a Nikto as it rushes past the window, and then the doors are opening as he runs for cover inside. He immediately fiddles with the door panel, securing the lock.

  
You watch with your mouth open and eyes wide.

  
Never had this happened before.

  
Suddenly, you realise that this was the last stand. The first line of defence was gone. But you knew there was more inside of the other buildings, where you assumed the mercenaries ate and slept. 

  
The Nikto barks at you but you don't understand. You watch as he strides away from the door and round the corner. You can see the tip of his gun, telling you that he wasn't running, he was just waiting there, hiding for cover.

  
In case the droid gets this far. 

  
You shiver with fear and unable to help yourself, peek outside of the window again. The Nikto was dead, and the droid remaining in it's place, but it appeared to be...talking? With someone to the left of him. You couldn't see who because there was a pillar in the way. 

  
Behind you, the Nikto barks, and again, you jump out of your skin. You were on edge, that much was clear.

  
You look back at him with a scowl, annoyed that he'd scared you. He was peering at you from behind the wall, pointing to where Bean's pod levitated. He wants you away from the door and window, next to Bean, where you guess he can cover you.

  
You obey and climb off the crate just in time to hear a next wave of blasters go off. The rest of the Nikto must be attacking. 

  
When you reach Bean, you crouch down next to him, grabbing his pod so he's closer to your height and within range for your body to cover him, should the worst happen. 

  
_Kriff_ , you think. It doesn't feel real. Less than five minutes ago you were doing washing and now you were facing the possibility of being caught.   
You try not to flinch with every shot fired, especially when they get unusually loud, almost as if they were using an actual turret. Hell, maybe they were. Or at least, a big-ass gun. 

  
Voices appear close to the door. One of them was definitely the droid, the other you don't recognise. Maybe he'd brought a partner? They're talking but it's much too muffled for you to make out what they were saying. And then there's more gun fire and it's all a blur of noise.

  
You glance at the Nikto, who looks surprisingly calm with his back against the wall, just waiting. Listening. Ready to strike. It help calms you, but then you remember that this droid – and his friend? - took down the whole damn camp. 

  
A single Nikto wasn't going to save you. 

  
You scramble your brain for an idea. For hope. For your move, should they make it inside, but in your panic, you could barely _think_ let alone come up with a plan.

  
Clearly, you'd got too comfortable here. You fooled yourself into thinking you and Bean were safe. You'd failed him.

  
Your fingers curl against the pod . _I'm sorry, Bean_ , you think, distraught. But you wouldn't let them take him without a fight, even if you died. 

  
By the time you finish your thought, you realise just how silent it is. You glance at the door with baited breath. You don't know who won.

  
And then there's blaster shots upon the door, turning the reinforced metal an angry red where it's pierced. Sparks fly and smoke forms. You cover the pod with your body, holding him close. They penetrate the metal in the shape of an arch, effectively cutting it away from the supporting frame, until it falls with a loud clang against the ground. 

  
_They were inside_. The words barely register. It didn't feel real.

  
You can't really see them with your view blocked from crates, cannisters, and bags. So you cut your eyes over to the Nikto just in time to see him step out from behind cover, gun raised. 

  
You hold your breath and -

  
\- he's shot dead instantly. 

  
Any hope you had is crushed as he falls to the floor.

  
“Anyone else?” A raspy male voice speak ups, sounding as if he had a voice modulator. Something stirs inside of you but you put it down to nerves.

  
“The tracking fob is still active,” informs the droid as they step inside. “My sensors indicate there is two life-forms present.”

  
Their tracking fob gets louder. Another step and you can see them. The droid puts the fear of god in you, so cold and lifeless, the persona of a true murderer. But his companion has you sucking in a harsh breath.

  
_A Mandalorian._

  
Kriff, it had been years since you'd seen one in person. Since you were a child; _Since your Knight had made the fox who stole so much from you go away..._

  
But you knew it most likely wasn't the same one. For starters, his armour was different. Although, he could have changed it as the years passed. But it's not like you could ask. _“Oh by the way, before you kill us or whatever you have planned, did you murder my molester roughly fifteen years ago?”_

Yeah, _that'd_ go down well.

  
The sound of your sharp inhale has them both turning towards you, guns ready. With your heart beating in your ears, you hold up your hands and stand, purposely putting your body in front of Bean's pod in case they decided to shoot.

  
“Please don't hurt him,” is the first thing which leaves your mouth. You didn't want to sound weak but you didn't have a weapon, there was two of them, a _droid_ and a _kriffing Mandalorian_ , so there really wasn't much you could do but plead for Bean's safety. 

  
“Where is the Asset?” questions the droid but your eyes don't leave the Mandalorian. 

  
You knew their reputation, but you also know how much _your_ Mandalorian had helped you. It was hard for you to remember they weren't the same person; your inner child telling you that he was _safe_ and not _dangerous;_ that one of them had _helped_ you, therefore this one would, too. 

  
Which was an extremely _stupid_ thought. He was a bounty hunter, and he was here for your little Bean. The past didn't apply here. 

  
“He's just a baby,” you emphasise, unable to hide your anger. "Not - not a _Asset!"_

  
The Mandalorian shifts his helmet slightly towards the droid, but his aim remains on you. You hear the hesitance in his voice. “They said 50 years old.”

  
You see this as your chance, pulse racing. “No. He's a kid – look.” Popping open the lid of his cot, you find two large eyes peering up at you with intrigue. Trust him not to realise the danger he was in. You pick him up and shift him to your right side, where you angle your body so he was furthest away from the droid. You didn't trust it. “See?”

You show the Mandalorian. Bean makes a sound of delight. 

  
“Species age differently,” concludes the droid. “Perhaps it could live many centuries.”

  
You want to scoff at that, and even go as far as throwing him a dirty look – couldn't he see how tiny Bean was?! - but then you remember how he hadn't aged the entire time you've known him, and you gulp.

  
_Holy crap_ , you glance down at Bean who was very interested in the Mandalorian, _Are you really 50 years old?!_

  
The droid follows up his previous statement with, “Sadly, we'll never know,” before raising his weapon. 

  
“Hey! Don't you fucking-” you warn, instinctively turning so your body was mostly in front of Bean. At the same time, the Mandalorian steps in front of you, hand pushing the droids weapon down, cutting off your warning.

  
“No. We'll bring them in alive,” The Mandalorian tells him. 

  
The droid steps to the side, weapon rising once again, the barrel staring straight at you and Bean. This time, the Mando doesn't move, other than turning his helm in the same direction as the droids blaster. “The commission was quite specific,” he drones. “The Asset and care-taker was to be terminated.”

  
Your eyes fixate on the blaster, heart racing, body filling with sadness. You might die, but you don't regret coming here. Your only regret was not being able to do more to protect Bean.

  
You look down at your baby, deciding that he was the last thing you wanted to see. His own attention was on the Mandalorian, cooing at him, babbling to conversationally. He had no idea what danger he was in. 

  
Tears fill your eyes. 

  
Hopefully, you'll find each other again in the afterlife. 

  
You press your lips to his head and squeeze your eyes shut, mentally whispering your apology to him. 

  
And then the shot fires. You expect pain, or darkness, but there's only a crash, and it takes a few seconds to realise that both you and the baby were just fine. 

  
Your eyes open and you find the droid on the ground, dead, steam rising from the blaster shot to the head. The Mandalorian lowers his weapon from where it had been aimed at the droid, and holsters it. Not once did he remove his gaze from you and Bean. 

  
You think you should say _thank you_ but find yourself speechless. Even though you can't see his expression, you can sense his wonder, from the way he tilts his head. If you had to guess, it was for the kid. You'd felt the same way when you'd first seen him - hell, he could still make you feel like that now. 

  
Bean continues to trill at him and slowly, the Mandalorian raises his hand, a single finger lifted towards Bean.

  
Bean glances at it, ears twitching with curiosity. Then he coo's in delight and reaches for the Mandalorian's finger. You can feel Bean's happiness through your bond, the warmth of the Mando's finger as they touch, and you sigh as you translate Bean's feelings into words.

  
The kid, has decided - without a doubt - that he likes this Mandalorian.


	6. Chapter 6

You scowl as you pack yours and Bean's things into your old bag. 

  
You'd been hopeful when the Mandalorian had killed the droid that it had meant he was letting you go, or even helping you, or _at least_ abandoning this job. 

  
But no. He was still _very_ serious about taking in you. 

  
_“What happens now?” You'd ask foolishly._

  
_“You come with me,” he'd responded. “I need to deliver you and the Asset.”_

  
_You'd scowled at him. “It's a_ baby _not an_ Asset _,” you'd reminded him before storming into your room._

  
_He sighed, the sound distorted through his voice modulator, and followed you, hand on his weapon in case you tried anything. “Where are you going?”_

  
_“Packing,” was your response._

  
Bean quickly caught onto what you were doing and made it his responsibility to hand you items he deemed worthy of packing. 

  
“Thank you,” you say as he gives you a pair of your socks before waddling off with a happy coo. You search through the old crate you'd turned into your personal storage unit and grabbed your sanitary products, along with underwear and the money you'd 'borrowed' from your parents. You stuff them into the bag. 

  
Bean returns, tapping your leg and you glance down at him. Your heart warms when you see three crayons in one hand, and a paper pad in the other. You give him a watery smile. 

  
“Oh _yes_ ,” you kneel, letting him put the crayons in the bag before helping him with the pad. It was an awkward fit but you managed it. “Can't forget _those_. Thank you, baby,” you say fondly.

  
He trills with a tilt of his head; you can feel how happy he is to be of help, before he once again toddles off. You don't worry about watching him. The Mandalorian needs you both and is keeping a close enough eye on him, as well as you.

  
You find one of his hand-carved toys, the one in the shape of a Porg. It's the last one he has left, having lost the others (or eaten them, you'd suspected), and you pack that as well, if only for the sentimental value (you assume his old care-taker had made them for him).

  
The Mandalorian stood in the doorway where he had a clear view of both the bedroom and the main room (where you assume Bean had wandered off to). You pass him and gather the clothes you'd left on the crate; the ones you'd picked off the washing line before the battle had started. 

  
You wonder why the Mandalorian was letting you do this. He must have known that wherever you were going, they most likely wouldn't allow you to have your things, because you'd come to that same conclusion. Maybe he was letting you have your way for now, so that you'd be more inclined to do things _his_ way, when you were finished. 

  
Your bag was mostly full but you couldn't resist grabbing some dried meat and water cannisters from the pantry for the little one, in case he got hungry or thirsty along the way. 

  
(hopefully if you kept him well fed, he'd be less likely to try and _eat_ everything)

“It's time,” Mando rasps.

  
You throw your bag onto your shoulder and nod, watching as he picks up the kid - who _eee's_ in delight - by the back of it's jacket and sits him inside of the pod. He then places a small, circular _coin(?)_ onto the inside of the hood, before messing with the device on his wrist. 

  
“Let's go,” he orders once he's finished. 

  
You follow him out front, watching as Bean's pod follows. That's what the coin thing must have been – an invisible tether. “How far is your ship?”

  
“Far enough.”

  
_Oh._ Then - “Do you have a Blurrg?” you ask. 

  
“Had,” he responds. “It got spooked.”

  
You frown at that. “How are we getting to your ship then?” 

  
From what you remember, this compound was almost impossible to get to without a mount. Too many cracks in the surface, leading to deep canyons underground. Gaps much too wide for (most) people to jump over, but doable with a mount.

  
You'd had your own Blurrg when you'd first arrived. The one Kuiil gave you. But you'd released her after you'd found out you weren't allowed to leave the compound. Keeping her locked up for the foreseeable future had seemed...cruel.

  
“Stop talking,” he says instead of answering you. 

  
You stare at his back and sigh, making a show of zipping your lips shut and throwing away the key even though he can't see you. A giggle comes from Bean and your eyes cut to him, lagging just behind the Mandalorian like you were. He was watching you, tiny fingers hooked onto the lip of his pod as he peers around the lid. 

  
You smile at him despite your situation. No matter what was happening, just the sight of his little face lifted your spirits. 

  
–

In the Mandalorian's attempt to avoid the cracks forming the canyon, he'd decided the best way to travel would be _inside_ of them. 

  
“You want us to _jump_ down there?” You question with disbelief, staring into the canyon. Admittedly, it was a smaller drop then the rest. 

But still...

  
“Yes,” he rasps with a heavy sigh. Most likely, he was hoping his earlier request for you to stop talking still held value. 

  
But, _c'mon,_ as if you _wouldn't_ question this??

  
“Um, okay, how?” You didn't mean to sound so sarcastic. You _genuinely_ wanted to know because you'd rather not break your legs attempting this. 

  
(in all honesty you were kind of excited, and you wonder when the kid had started rubbing off on you so much)

  
“I'll go first,” he says, moving his gaze from the edge of the crack, to you. His hand shifts to his weapon. “You wanna try anything?” He questions warningly.

Dangerously. 

  
God, it was tempting. Tempting to just push him over the edge and run. But not only was Bean tethered to him - and no way was you leaving without him - you also had no where to go. 

  
So for now, you were stuck with him. 

  
“I'll behave,” you assure him.

  
“Good.” He manoeuvres himself to the edge where he sits for a moment, playing with the device on his wrist. “The kids gonna lower with me.” He presses the button which closes the lid on the pod, effectively stopping you from snatching him and making a run for it. “So don't get any ideas.”

  
_Pfft._ Whatever. You'd get your opportunity; you just had to wait it out.

  
You smile at him sweetly. “Wouldn't dream of it.”

  
Mando aims his gauntlet towards a large boulder which sat near the edge. A grapple shoots out of it, hooking into the rock. “Once we're down at the bottom, it's your turn.”

  
Without further explanation, he turns and dangles himself from the edge. You watch as the pod lowers with him and think about how much Bean would have loved to know just how high up he was right now. You could practically hear his giggles, but know that he wasn't actually laughing; all you could sense from him in this moment was irritation at being locked away, and curiosity about what was happening. 

  
“Alright,” Mando's gravely shout reaches you after a few moments. “Come on down.”

  
You don't move, lips quirking.

  
After a moment, he calls up again, sounding much more agitated. “ _Kid,_ ” he growls. “Get your ass down here.”

  
_Kid?_

You raise your eyebrows.

  
_What. The. Hell._

You know you look young for your age but _kriff_. You were mid-twenties and had spent the last year being a parent to _an actual_ kid.

You definitely didn't feel bad for messing with him now.

You pull your lips into your mouth, holding in your laugh. 

  
“If I have to come back up there, you'll spend the rest of our travel in cuffs,” he threatens and you choose that moment to pop your head over the edge. 

  
“Sorry! I can't hear you properly from up here! Can I come down yet?” you ask him innocently.

  
You can't hear it, but you just know he's sighing at you. His helm was tilted upwards in your direction, his upper body leaned back slightly, hands resting on the front of his belt...

  
You frown suddenly, a funny feeling coming over you, like you'd seen this image before...

  
But as quickly as it comes it disappears. 

  
You shake your head, clearing whatever _that_ was from your thoughts, and climb to your feet. You head over to the cable and mirror the movements you'd seen him do.

You count to three before dangling yourself off the edge, relying solely on the cable. 

  
_Oh kriff._ This required a lot more upper body strength than you had...

  
Your arms shake as you attempt to lower yourself but you can't seem to go quick enough. You make it about halfway, you think, when your muscles turn to jelly and you realise that _you're gonna fall._

  
“I don't think I can do this,” you say, mostly out of panic, trying to hold onto the cable for dear life. 

  
“I didn't expect you to,” he says, and that kind of reassures you and irks you at the same time. “Keep trying. If you fall, I'll catch you.”

  
Suddenly you feel like you're in a clichéd romance novel, but you don't give a shit – you're just grateful you're not likely to break your legs should your arms give in. 

  
“Okay, okay,” you breathe. “I can do this. I can-” _not._

  
You fall, and you're not quite sure _why_ because you're _almost positive_ you hadn't let go. You scream, out of instinct, but then you're landing in a pair of arms, your hands finding purchase on broad, armoured shoulders just to help ground yourself.

  
“Holy shit. What happened?” you breathe. You can feel Bean's concern nudging you through your connection. He'd heard your shout. You send him reassurance and try to calm yourself to ease his distress.

  
The Mandalorian gently places you back on your feet. His Pauldrons shift under your hands as he shrugs. “Guess the grapple came loose,” he rasps an explanation.

  
You stare into the T-visor of his helm, your suspicions rising.

“You let it go,” you accuse, realising that this was an act of revenge. 

  
“No,” he says and there's something in his voice you can't quite name, but tells you he's lying. 

  
What the _kriff_ , you think, not knowing whether to laugh or hit him. 

  
Messing around like this...

It was so _human._

You almost didn't believe he was capable of it.

Though you weren't sure why; maybe because he was planning on handing Bean over, and you made the unconscious decision that anyone who could put someone as adorable and vulnerable as Bean in danger couldn't possibly be human (like the droid who tried to murder you both). 

  
You're still staring at him with disbelief, so lost in your thoughts that you don't even realise your hands have slid from his pauldrons to his chest piece where they currently rested. You only realise this when you notice him staring down at your fingers.

  
And then you are also stare down at your fingers.

  
...and something very, _very_ strange occurs to you.

  
“I'm not afraid,” you whisper to yourself out-loud with amazement...and confusion. 

  
After your encounter with that boy at 15, there had been a few other lovers in your life. It was only natural. You were curious about sex; the act was everywhere. You wanted to feel the way they felt in the novels. All sparks and passion and explosive orgasms with fireworks and shivers. You wanted it so bad, to feel _normal_ , like others did.

To not feel robbed.

To _not let him win._

  
But every time you so much as touched a man, or had a man touch you, your body rejected it.

Shut down.

You felt _dirty._

You tried to ignore it, to force yourself through the motions but...

It _never_ felt like the novels. 

  
It just felt...scary. Terrifying, actually. Like being back there again with the evil, greedy fox. Not able to escape and hoping it'd be over soon. 

_Please just let it be over soon..._

  
It was the trauma, you think. 

  
Which is why you couldn't believe you'd found a man you could _actually_ touch; who'd touched you; held you for a moment; and you -

  
Didn't.

Feel.

Afraid.

...Or even so much as _flinch._

  
And you'd found all of that, in a _kriffing_ Mandalorian, who remained unmoving and silent, as if he didn't want to interrupt whatever was transpiring. 

  
(then again, you'd felt safe around the Mando from your childhood, too, hadn't you? Safe enough to hug him in thanks. Clearly he'd left a life-long impression on you)

  
You can't help but chuckle as you remove your hands, giving him a pat on the chest just because you could. Poor guy must be so god damn confused. 

  
“Sorry,” you offer. “I got lost in my thoughts.”

It wasn't exactly a lie.

  
He stares at you a moment and then nods, accepting your explanation. His helm follows you as you head over to Bean and press the button which lifted the lid. 

  
He didn't look happy; his ears were down and lips almost appearing to form a tiny pout.

You laugh quietly. “Aw, baby, don't look at me like that. It was the Mandalorian.”

  
_The kriffing Mandalorian._

  
–

  
You make your way through the canyon, watching Bean's eyes light up when he spots the small reptiles scurrying along the sand. 

  
He makes a grabby hand at them and your eyes widen when you notices his start to flutter in that familiar concentration...

  
“Bean,” you say loudly, startling him out of it. The Mandalorian also turns at the sound of your voice. “Uh,” shit. “Are you...hungry?”

  
“Wait,” The Mandalorian says quietly, coming to a stop. He watches the reptiles scattering away, drawing your attention to them, and you frown, wondering what startled them considering they'd been fine with the three of you just moments ago...

  
Your gaze turns to Mando, watching as he slowly examines the surroundings.

Clearly, he suspected something wasn't right, and a knot formed in your stomach.

And then something catches your eye in the reflection on his helm, where you could see the top of the canyon.

  
“They're above-” you go to whisper.

  
“I know,” Mando cuts you off harshly.

You scold yourself.

_Of course_ he was already aware!

  
You back up towards Bean and press the button on his lid again, ignoring the trill of irritation he gives you; meanwhile Mando reaches for his blaster, only for it to be knocked out of his hand seconds later by a large figure jumping down into the canyon. 

  
You pull Bean out of the way, placing him between you and the canyon wall, his pod nudging your back. 

  
The figure, who you recognise as a Trandoshan, aggressively swung what looked like an axe towards Mando, who blocked it with his gauntlets.

Your eyes search the sand for the fallen blaster, and when you locate it, you make a dive for it. 

  
You manage to grip it correctly and aim it towards the attacker just as Mando gets hold of the axe, holding it between them with both hands like a barrier. The Trandoshan shifts one hand to go for the punch, only for Mando to flip him. 

  
Well.

Guess he doesn't need your help.

  
Another two jump down behind him and you retract your previous thought, shifting your aim before pulling the trigger.

You miss the shot, b _ut kriff_ it; you fire again.

...And again, adjusting your aim depending on where the blaster shots were landing until you eventually manage to get a shot on the Trando's shoulder.

He falls with a grunt.

"Yes!" you can't help but cheer.

Meanwhile, Mando defends himself against the other two, and you watch as he deflects hits like ping-pong balls.

  
You can't get a shot on either of them; they're moving too fast and you can't risk hitting Mando. But again, Mando doesn't need your help, and you watch as he knocks one out using the Amban rifle he'd pull off his back. 

  
You release your breath, thinking it was over, when suddenly the final Trando runs away from Mando and _straight for you_.

You panic, holding your weapon back up and go to fire - 

  
\- only for him Mando to shoot first, the Trando vaporizing in front of your eyes. 

  
“Kriff,” you mutter, looking at the ground where only the Trando's tracking fob and clothes remained, before turning around and opening the pod.

Bean looks between you, Mando, and the bodies with a innocent head tilt. 

  
“Are you both okay?” the Mandalorian questions, coming up behind you. 

  
“Yeah,” you tell him. You were fine and you knew Bean was, too. You didn't have to see him to know that; you'd have sensed it if he'd been hurt. “Are you?” you turn your gaze on him. 

  
He gives a simple nod. You hand him his blaster and he places it back in his holster. “Let's get moving.”

  
–

  
You settle Bean in your lap and open up your bag, searching for some dried meat and water. In typical Bean fashion, he makes grabby hands straight at the food and you roll your eyes fondly. 

  
“No, Bean. _Hydrate_ first,” you tell him firmly, helping him lift the water cannister.

He could mostly do it by himself, but if the cannister was too full, he'd sometimes accidentality spill it down his front. So you kept hold of the bottom, making sure he didn't tip it too far as he drank greedily.

  
 _See? You were thirstier than you thought_.

You smile fondly. 

  
You only half-pay attention to Mando who was busy cauterizing a wound on his upper arm. You'd have offered to help, but you have little to no first aid knowledge, and figured he could do a better job than you could anyway, so you stayed quiet and let him do his thing while you did yours. 

  
Your only source of light was from a travel lamp. It looked kind of like a bug zapper(hell maybe it was), and he seemed to pull it out of nowhere, making you think it must collapse in some way. 

  
“There we go.” You spoke with Bean like you always did; as if the Mandalorian didn't exist. You take your own sip of water before putting the lid back in place. “You can have some, if you want,” you tell Mando, nudging the cannister towards him before unwrapping the pieces of dried meat.

  
“No. Thank you.”

  
You shrug and give Bean a piece of jerky.

You watch closely, knowing the second you look away, he'll try and shove the whole damn thing in his mouth. Then again, you wonder if you were overreacting, worrying about him choking on something so small when you'd seen him gulp down an entire lizard before...

  
“You should eat too,” Mando says out of the blue. You'd grown so used to the silence – other than the gentle hum of the cauterizer – that his voice makes you jump.

  
“Hmm? Oh, no. Him first,” you say with little room for argument. It was getting colder and you were worried how well your little Bean was going to handle it. “Would it be too risky to make a fire?”

  
Mando stops and tilts his helmet towards you. “Yes. We're already being tracked by hunters. We don't need to attract other unruly types as well.”

  
Yeah, that's what you'd figured.

But you thought you'd ask anyway. 

  
“Fair enough,” you sigh, offering Bean some more jerky, only for him to push your hand away. You still had enough left for breakfast and possibly lunch tomorrow, at a stretch. You take two pieces for yourself and nibble at them slowly. 

  
As you eat, you let Bean toddle around. He didn't like sitting still for too long, and you know he needed to let off some energy, having been stuck in his pod for most of the day. 

  
He does a few circles, grabbing handfuls of sand and watching it fall through his fingers. Eventually, he grows bored and heads over to Mando, who continued to care for his wound.

  
It doesn't occur to you exactly what your little Bean is up to until he lifts his hand and _nope_ – instinctively, it doesn't feel right anyone knowing what Bean can do, so you stop him before he can try to heal the Mandalorian.

“Bean! Leave him alone,” you scold. 

  
Bean's ears drop and he turns to you with a sad expression which he knows melts your insides because he can sense your feelings. You quickly finish your food and shove the rest into your bag. 

  
“Come here,” you tell him, holding out your arms.

Maybe it was time to try and get the little monster to sleep. 

  
He sulks, shoulders dropping, but doesn't move.

  
“Bean...” you trail off warningly. 

  
Bean ignores you and turns, once again raising his arm towards Mando's wound.

You gulp nervously, ready to stand up and retrieve him yourself, when Mando does it for you.

  
The baby squeals in delight at being picked up by the Mandalorian; you can feel it through your connection, and smile internally.

Gosh, he's smitten all right...

It was almost cute.

...If the Mandalorian wasn't planning on handing you both over to your possible deaths...

  
He's deposited into your lap and you hold him up, hands tucked under his armpits.

“Someone's feeling mischievous tonight,” you wiggle him in the air, smiling at his gleefully giggle, before holding him close. It was time to try and get him off to sleep, but first: “Do you need to go potty?” you question.

  
He babbles in a way you learned means _yes_. 

  
_Thought so._

You were surprised he'd waited this long.

Hesitantly, you look up at the Mandalorian, only to find his gaze already on you. He was no longer healing his arm and instead was working on repairing his chest piece (or at least that's what you think he's doing to it).

  
“Where can I take him?” you question, because Bean deserved some kind of privacy – well, no, he probably didn't care, but it only seemed right – and you knew Mando wouldn't let you venture too far. 

  
“That boulder,” he gestures to a place behind you. “But no further. If you get attacked, I won't be able to see you.”

  
You nod and stand with Bean resting on your hip. You grab some wipes from your bag and head out.

  
–

  
Trying to convince a 50 year old baby to go potty outside, with nothing resembling a toilet like he was used to, was...fun.

_Not._

(the scowl on his face made you want to laugh until your sides hurt but you held it in, knowing he'd only scowl harder and then you wouldn't be able to stop)

  
Eventually he managed to go, and you cleaned him up. You considered changing his gown and briefs to clean ones, but decided to wait until morning since he'd only be sleeping in them anyway. 

  
You head back to Mando, who was still occupied with his chest piece. You sit back in your previous spot and realise that, _yeah_ , it was getting kriffing freezing now. Grabbing Bean's blanket from his pod, you tuck it around him, making a hood for his head and ears. You worry it's not enough, so grab one of your shirts and pull that over him, too. 

  
He doesn't look exactly happy about the amount of layers he's now trapped in... but at least he's warm. 

  
You, however, were shivering now. Because you were dressed in what you considered your 'desert gear'; sand colour, loose fitting pants and a long-sleeved matching shirt; the material was made to keep cool and allow air flow whilst preventing sun burn, but didn't offer much protection against the cold.

At least your wrap kept your ears and neck somewhat warmish. 

  
You sigh and lay back against the sand, head on your bag and holding Bean close to your chest.

He didn't mind; he often fought to sleep with you at night. You tried to discourage it, because you remember hearing somewhere how clingy behaviour in children should be discouraged, but it was hard to say no to those big eyes. 

  
Your eyes close, and not long after, the buzzing from Mandalorian stops. You don't know if it's because he's finished, or if he just doesn't want to disturb your rest.

Eventually, you curl onto your side for warmth, Bean wrapped protectively in your arms, and you're half-way gone when Mando removes his cape and places it over you both. 


	7. Chapter 7

_You dream of falling into the Mando's arms again._

  
_But you're smiling, not screaming, as you drop through the air._

  
_You know this part._

_You remember it._

_You're_ happy _to be reliving it._

  
 _You relish the feeling of touching him, of being touched, and it actually being a_ pleasant _experience._

  
_His fingers rest against the side of your leg and under your arm. Yours stay on his shoulders, his pauldrons, and your eyes flutter shut, grin remaining as you just breathe and enjoy physical contact._

  
_But then his fingers become a little too painful; his grip suddenly much too harsh._

  
_Your smile falls, eyes opening as you look down at his hand, digits digging and making impressions in the fabric of your pants, bruising the skin underneath..._

  
_Wait._

  
_Hadn't he been wearing gloves?_

  
_Suddenly, it all feels too wrong and awfully familiar._

  
_Dread sinks into the pit of your stomach and you're almost afraid to look up. Pauldrons disappear under your hands, leaving thin material of a shirt, which morphs into fur, the strands growing between your finger tips._

  
_You gulp and reluctantly move your gaze from his hands to his head._

  
_You scream at what you find; the over-sized fox head glaring down at you hungrily, mouth split into a wide grin. Your body goes cold and you freeze in place, just like all those years ago..._

  
You wake up to tiny hands on your cheeks and a pressure on your chest, feelings of warmth and reassurance humming through your bond, calming you.

  
_Bean._

  
“Thanks,” you breathe to him, quickly realising that he'd managed to remove the shirt you put on him along with his blanket. 

  
With the morning sun rising, he'd most likely started getting too warm. You place a hand against his back, holding him steady as you shift yourself into a sitting position.

  
Black material pooling at your waist catches your eye and you frown, wondering where it came from. 

  
_A blanket?_

  
A shadow falls over you. 

  
“Freshen up, and then we'll get a move on,” Mando rasps, and you glance up from where he stood over you, blocking the sun.

  
“Right,” you clear your throat, still on edge from your dream but Bean was helping sooth your distress. You stand up with him, sitting him on your hip and holding the fabric in your hand towards the bounty hunter. “This yours?”

  
He nods and opens his palm. 

  
You give it over, watching as he gathers it up in his hands before placing his head through a hole, the long material falling down his back, making you realise what he'd given you – his cape.

  
“Thank you for, uh, that,” you say, because it felt rude not to. But still, you couldn't _not_ give him a bit of hell. “It's really nice of you. Thoughtful even; considering you stole us from our home and are about to hand us over to a life-time of imprisonment and/or death.” 

  
You smile innocently. 

  
Guess you were feeling extra feisty this morning. 

  
Probably because of your dream, but _meh._

  
It's not as if he didn't deserve it. 

  
He doesn't respond; most likely used to his bounties giving him attitude.

  
The front of his cape rested in layers underneath his neck, reminding you of a shawl, and he tucked the edges of it into his chest piece. You realise you're staring and quickly look away before he catches you.

  
You busy yourself with your bag, giving Bean more water before offering him jerky. 

  
He takes it between little clawed fingers. 

  
You weren't hungry, nerves much too fried from your dream to even consider food, but you do take a few sips of water before placing the items back into your bag. 

  
“He'll need the bathroom again before we go,” you tell the Mandalorian. 

  
With your attention elsewhere, Bean scoffs the jerky in one go.

  
“Go head,” he rasps, resting his hands over his belt and staring off into the opposite direction. 

  
There's something about that stance, you realise, which stirs a funny emotion within you. 

  
You have to force yourself to look away. 

  
You make your way over to the boulder from last night and help Bean go about his business. He grumbles unhappily again, but doesn't fight it like before. Once he's finished and cleaned up, you dress him in clean clothes before slipping his jacket back on him.

  
“Go bug the Mandalorian for a bit, okay?” you tell him and he chirps before waddling away. 

  
It was your turn. 

  
The boulder is around the height of your shoulders. You decide that it'll provide you enough cover to do your own business and change into a different top. 

  
After you've relieved yourself, you pick out a off-white sleeveless shirt with a V neck before adjusting your wrap back into place. You leave it hanging loosely from your neck, ready to be turned into a hood if need be.

  
When you join the others, you find Bean sitting in his pod, scowling at the Mandalorian and scolding him in baby speak. 

  
You can feel his irritation and laugh quietly to yourself; the Mando must have put Bean away, and Bean was letting him know just how much he disapproved of the action. 

  
Mando tilts his head in your direction. “Ready?” he rasps.

  
You answer him with a sweet smile. “To go? Yes. To be handed over and potentially imprisoned or killed?” you shrug. He hadn't responded to your remark earlier, so you're not sure what you're expecting by repeating yourself. Maybe just any reaction. Or at least a _hint_ at your fate now it was getting closer. “Can't say I am.”

  
He sighs.

  
–

  
You approach a ridge; just below you can see a ship and a Sandcrawler. Jawa's scurried along like rats dressed in black cloaks as they scavenged parts of what you assumed was the Mandalorian's ship.

  
“Oh shit,” you whisper under your breath, although you couldn't exactly find it in yourself to feel bad for Mando. If anything...you were happy for the delay in your trip. It gave you more time to come up with an plan before he delivered you and Bean into enemy hands. “This must really suck for you.”

  
The Mandalorian retrieves the Amban sniper from his back and removes the scope. He examines the situation with it before putting it back in place and taking aim. 

  
You watch as it vaporizes it's target. 

  
_Damn..._ You raise your eyebrows, impressed.

  
That was a hell of a weapon.

  
Bean gives a trill of intrigue and you turn to him with wide eyes when you feel excitement fizzling into your bond.

  
_What the f..._

You can see his eyes light up at the next shot fired; his tiny hands gripping the edge of his pod so he could lean forward and get a better view.

  
Oh no.

  
_He's turning into a murder baby._

  
Not sure what else to do, you cover his innocent eyes from the killing which was taking place below. 

  
Agitation radiates from him; he'd been enjoying the show.

  
“No, Bean, murder is bad,” you try to tell him. “Not fun. _Bad._ ”

  
Mando takes a few more shots. The Jawa's rush inside of the Sandcrawler. The ramp closes and the behemoth sized transportation begins to move. 

  
This spurs the Mandalorian into a run. 

  
You watch as Bean's pod follows him over the edge and sigh. You weren't fit enough for this. 

**** ~~~~  
\--

  
When the Mandalorian stops to line up a shot, you manage to catch up, already panting. You'd been locked up inside of that compound for roughly a year; the most exercise you had was playing hide and seek with Bean. 

  
The shot achieves nothing; Mando breaks into a sprint. 

  
He manages to catch up with the Sandcrawler and jumps, fingers latching onto the side of it where he begins to climb towards a ladder.

  
 _This Mandalorian is crazy_ , you think as you attempt to keep up but find yourself lagging behind. 

  
Which was frustrating as hell, because if only you could get close enough to Bean, you could grab him from his pod and try to make your escape whilst the Mandalorian played with the Sandcrawler.

  
The Sandcrawler gets further and further away, taking Mando and Bean with it. You begin to panic, worried you'll lose them. You try to remind yourself that even if you did get separated, your connection would – most likely – be able to lead you back to him, as long as he didn't get too far.

  
Your legs burn and lungs ache but you keep pushing forward, mentally cursing the Mandalorian.

  
-

  
By the time you catch up, the Sandcrawler is long gone, and you find the Mandalorian on his back, limbs spread and apparently, unconscious. 

The pod floats near him and anxiety flows from Bean.

  
He was worried about Mando.

  
“Is he dead?” you question Bean, receiving a sad trill in response. Your breathing is heavy as you step towards Mando. You kneel and place a hesitant hand against his chest.

  
It moves under your palm. 

  
_Okay, so he's still alive._

  
Just hurt.

  
You lean back, your ass against the heels of your feet, and take a moment to think.

  
He could be _seriously_ injured. 

  
But your first aid knowledge was next to none, so you didn't know how to help.

  
You could let Bean attempt to heal him, but if the injury was too severe, you didn't know what that would do to your little monster.

So you wouldn't risk it. 

  
...Unless you carried him somewhere. 

  
Maybe back to his ship? 

  
If you were lucky, the Jawa's might have left something working where you could access a planetary map and locate Kuiil...

  
He'd know what to do.

  
Hell, he could look after the Mandalorian whilst you made a run for it with Bean.

  
Your heart stops. 

  
Stutters. 

  
And restarts.

  
What the kriff were you doing waiting around? 

  
This was your chance!

  
Your feet kicks up sand as you push yourself up and rush over to Bean who was still watching the Mandalorian worriedly. You slide your hand under the hood of the pod, searching, and then – _there is it!_ You tuck your nails under the coin thing which tethered Bean's pod to Mando and attempt to yank it free.

  
But no such luck. 

  
It won't budge.

  
You step back, rubbing a hand over your sweaty forehead. 

  
Okay. 

  
_Fine._

  
You didn't need the pod anyway. 

  
You'd just have to carry Bean, which wasn't a big deal because he didn't weight that much, but you'd rather not have to carry the extra weight with how unfit you were.

  
After this, you'd need to start working out. 

  
There was no mercenaries protecting you any more. 

  
You were now on the run.

  
You grab Bean. You make a guess that the Sandcrawler was somewhere to your left; the Mando's ship on the right. 

  
So you head straight, wanting to avoid both. 

  
\--

  
It takes 5 minutes for you to realise that you have nowhere to go.

  
You stop, your heart sinking. 

  
Sure, you'd managed to escape the Mandalorian, but now what? 

  
He would come for you.

  
More hunters – _different_ hunters would come for you. 

  
You wouldn't be able to fight them off. 

  
And you couldn't go to Kuiil for help; it wouldn't be fair to drag him into this. Same with any other potential friendlies you came across.

  
What if 3 more Trando's attacked _right now?_ You wouldn't be able to do fuck all against them.

  
Ironically, you were safer with Mando than without him.

  
Maybe...you could change his mind. 

  
Convince him to help you protect the kid instead of handing you both over.

  
_Yeah._

  
You'd have to try that.

  
It was your only option.

  
And honestly?

  
It wasn't a bad one.

  
The kid's an expert at making people fall in love with him.

  
This could work. 

  
You turn around, decision made, just in time to see him running over the hill towards you.

  
_Kriff._

  
He was awake. 

  
He knew you'd ran from him. You hope he's not too angry about it.

  
...Or about leaving him there unconscious and open to attack.

  
You walk towards him and he turns his sprint into a slow jog. When he reaches you, you quickly blurt out a:

  
“I'm sorry.”

  
He stops, helmet tilting. Watching you, and then: “You changed you mind. Why?”

  
You shrug, trying to ignore how happy Bean was at seeing the Mandalorian. “Where would we go? The compound isn't safe any more,” you tell him defeatedly. “And...I can't protect him alone.”

  
It's not a nice feeling. 

  
The moment when you realise that you had no control over your future. 

  
It was entirely in the Mandalorian's hands. 

  
_Bean's_ life was in his hands. 

  
If he didn't change his mind...

  
It was over for the both of you.

  
Reluctantly, you hand Bean over to him. Hoping more interaction between the two would soften him, and also, showing Mando that you'd given up on your plot to escape.

  
Bean coos when Mando grabs him under the arms and secures him in his pod. You expect him to scold you once his attention is on you again, but all he asks is:

  
“Do I need to cuff you?”

  
You shake your head. “I'll be good.”

  
And you will be...

  
Perhaps _suspiciously_ good.


	8. Chapter 8

The ship was stripped to hell.

You didn't have to go inside to know that.

But the Mandalorian wanted to assess the damage.

So you and Bean stayed outside on the ramp, you sitting on your ass facing the sandy landscape and Bean scowling at every attempt to step inside only for you to pull him back out by the collar of his jacket.

There was too many loose wires sparking and sharp ridges. Not to mention the amount of screws and other small, tiny parts cluttered around the kid would try and put in his mouth.

A good amount of times passes when you hear a sigh from inside, shortly followed by the kid attempting to _once again_ enter the ship with ahappy trill. 

You turn and find the Mandalorian leaning back against one of the remaining panels inside of his ship. 

Bean stares at him, ears twitching.

“There's a moisture farm,” he rasps. “If we leave now we should make it there by dark.”

You smile gently. “Kuiil's?”

Mando's helm turns to your direction. “You know Kuiil?”

You nod, pulling Bean into your lap when you see him attempting to step inside. _Again._

He pouts with a frustrated _ehh_ noise, fingers latching onto his clawed feet. 

You frown.

He was going to need some kind of protection for his feet, and _soon_.

You lick your lips, turning your attention back to Mando. “Um. He showed me where to find Bean. And gave me a Blurrg. He was lovely, really. It'd be nice to see him again.”

His response is a modulated and thoughtful, “Huh.” He pushes himself away from the wall and passes you on the ramp. “Come on, kids.”

You place Bean back inside of his pod and ignore the protesting of your aching legs. You still had a hell of a journey ahead of you before you could rest. 

–

The Mandalorian was correct. It had just turned dark by the time you reached Kuiil's moisture farm.

It was nostalgic approaching and seeing the Vaporators, along with Kuiil's familiar dome-like hut. It didn't feel that long ago you'd been dropped off with that fake package, both nervous and excited. 

You felt older now, but you figure that parenthood does that to a person. 

Your lips tug into a smile when you spot Kuiil up high on a structure which resembled a moisture Vaporator. He didn't so much as turn around as the three of you approached, but he must have heard the footsteps because once you were close enough, he spoke.

“I thought you were dead.”

Mando's helm tilts upwards towards him. “I guess the stories you read about Mandalorian's are true.”

“I guess they are,” says Kuiil, closing a small panel on the structure before climbing down. “In true Mandalorian fashion, you've made quick work of it.”

He turns when he reaches ground level, faltering when he finally notices you.

You try to smile warmly but can't help hesitating when you hear their conversation.

_'Made quick work of it'?_

Kuiil must have known what the Mandalorian was hunting... _and aided him in finding you._

Betrayal shoots through your heart like an arrow, turning your smile sad. “Hi, Kuiil. It's been a long time.”

“I didn't think you were still around,” he says, recovering quickly. “When more hunters came, I'd assumed you'd failed convincing your friend to leave and left by yourself.” He pauses for a moment. “Or the mercenaries had killed you on sight.”

“Ah.” You nod. “No. I'm still here.”

You're glad he didn't knowingly send hunters after you. And of course, you can't be angry he aided them in finding Bean. He didn't know that Bean was a harmless child, only that he'd been attracting unsavoury types to his planet. 

Speaking of Bean, the little trouble maker had climbed out of his pod the second he'd caught sight of a frog on the ground. 

He coos and squeals happily, attempting to catch it as it bounces away from him. The noise draws everyone's attention.

You smile at him.

_Bless._

_He's playing._

You loved seeing him so happy and being able to act like a child.

Kuiil appears visibly taken back. “This is what was causing all the fuss?”

Mando fiddles with the device in his gauntlet which sparked and crackled. It had been doing it the entire time you'd been walking, along with other various parts of his armour. 

Apparently the Jawa's had electrocuted him with something.

“I think it's a child,” Mando tells him.

“ _He_ ,” you stress. “ _Is_ a child,” you argue. He peers at you before turning his attention back to his armour. 

“It is better to deliver him alive then,” Kuiil suggests before heading over to a sheltered work bench littered with various tools.

“Or not at all,” you mutter under your breath, folding your arms over your chest. The night brought the cold back with it and now you were no longer moving, you could feel it in your bones.

Bean, however, didn't appear bothered by the drop in temperature. 

You watch over him absently. 

“My ship has been destroyed,” Mando responds. “I'm trapped here.”

“Stripped, not destroyed,” Kuiil informs him, picking up a long, pointy tool before heading back over. “The Jawa's steal. They don't destroy.” He gives it to the Mandalorian.

The armoured man takes it. “Stolen or destroyed makes no difference to me.” He places the tool against his gauntlet. “They're protected by their crawling fortress. There's no way to recover the parts.”

Bean continues to hunt down the frog with excited _eh eh eh_ noises. You narrow your eyes at him, their conversation becoming background noise. 

“Bean...” you say warningly. 

He hadn't long eaten.

So surely, he wasn't planning on-

He pounces onto the frog with a sound of delight. 

-oh _yes._

_Yes_ he _was._

“Hey!” you rush over to him but it was too late, the frog was already half-way down his throat. “Oh Bean,” you sigh in defeat, arms dropping.

Bean swallows with a loud gulp before giggling, followed by a satisfied burp. 

You pick him up. “You need to stop eating things,” you scold him but he only trills at you. You couldn't blame him though, not entirely. You should have separated them straight away; you _knew_ what Bean was like. “What if it was poisonous?”

Of course, he doesn't respond, but you feel waves of reassurance through your bond, squishing your worry. 

Then again, if he was 50 years old, maybe he had a better understanding of what he could and couldn't eat, than you did...

Suddenly, you feel eyes on you and turn to where Kuiil and the Mandalorian were staring. 

They'd probably witnessed Bean's night-time snack.

You shrug at them. 

“He...likes to eat things.” You didn't have an explanation beyond that. 

They turn and look at each other. 

You just sigh. Your body still ached and you were looking forward to a much needed rest.

“We leave tonight then,” Mando tells Kuiil.

“Tonight?” you question, resisting the urge to pout. “Can't we go in the morning?”

_After_ you've got some sleep. 

“No,” Mando tells you firmly and your shoulders sag. He tilts his helm at Kuiil. “When you're ready.”

“I'll fetch the Blurrg.”

–

Bean squeals in excitement as Kuiil attaches the Blurrg to a long trailer. The shape of it reminds you of a small boat with the way the sides turned upwards and appeared to narrow at one end.

He wiggles out of your hold and his little legs take him over to the animal where he _cooes_ and _ah's_ and points. His gaze lands on Mando, the first figure he sees, and he babbles in baby talk.

Mando looks down at him. “I don't know what you're saying.”

You smile as you approach, a water proof blanket wrapped around your form. It seemed that you were the only one bothered by the cold, and Kuiil insisted, predicting it to rain during your journey. “Yes, Bean. It's a Blurrg.”

“He knows what it is?” The Mandalorian asks.

You nod. “I drew one for him. Guess he remembers it.”

“It's all set,” Kuiil says, climbing on top of the Blurrg. “Get on.”

You went to grab Bean, only for Mando to reach for him first. You watch with a quirked eyebrow as the Mandalorian places him inside of the trailer.

You wonder if he even realises what he's doing.

You wonder if it means he's starting to get attached.

_(you can hope)_

He holds out a hand to you and you take it hesitantly as he helps you into the trailer before climbing up himself.

Mando settles at the end, sitting just behind Kuiil and the Blurrg. You place yourself somewhere towards the middle, with Bean between you and Mando. Bean's pod was already resting in the trailer, along with your bag.

The Ugnaught turns and makes sure everyone is seated before he sets off.

You wrap the blanket over your head and pull Bean into your lap. You were ready to sleep, and you could feel just how tired Bean was getting through your bond.

“Come on then, little monster,” you give a big yawn. “Time for sleep.”

He coos at you, eyes drooping. You shift down against the edge of the trailer and give another yawn before closing your own eyes. 

–

You burrow deeper into the blanket, hiding inside of the hood you'd created over your head in an attempt to block on the sunlight.

Last night, you'd slept horridly, and you were _really_ feeling it this morning. 

Rain pelted against your blanket for hours, the feeling and noise jerking you awake what felt like every 10 minutes. You kept on checking Bean, making sure he was curled up inside of the blanket and not getting too cold.

It had been a restless night, to say the least. 

And you weren't ready to get up yet, your body still exhausted. Limbs still aching. 

Bean was no longer in your arms but you could feel him near; _very near_. He was still in the trailer with you, feeling curious. 

Knowing he was safe and close allowed you to rest some more, bordering on the line between asleep and awake.

Kriff. 

You really were exhausted; you could feel the bags under your eyes.

Footsteps approach. You try to ignore them but a sudden thought occurs to you – _you were no longer moving._

“Hey,” It was the Mandalorian. He sounds slightly awkward and then there's a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Care-taker.”

Hearing your title startles you back to earth, and you turn, blinking at him. “Hey,” your voice is deep with sleep and you squint against the light. “Sorry. I overslept. I-”

He interrupts you. “You needed it,” he dismisses. “In exchange for my parts, I need to retrieve a Mudhorn egg. I'll be taking the kid with me,” his tone leaves no room for arguments. “I just wanted to let you know before we leave.”

Now you were _wide_ awake. 

You sit yourself up and climb over the edge of the trailer, bringing you face to face with Mando, blanket forgotten.

He straights up, helm tilting curiously.

You were tiny, really, head just reaching his shoulders.

He probably thought it was hilarious how you were squaring up to him.

But you didn't care.

“No way in hell,” you tell him fiercely. “You're not taking him to a Mudhorn Den. Are you crazy?!”

“Lower your voice,” he says, monotone.

Bean looks between the both of you from where he stood inside of the trailer, tiny clawed hands gripping the lip. 

He trills.

“He's a baby.” You were getting sick of people wanting to hurt him, or take him, or put him in danger. Didn't they see how harmless he was?! “I understand that your ship is important to you but how disgusting can you be, willing to put a childs life on the line unnecessarily?”

_So much for you playing nice, huh?_

He exhales deeply before grabbing your arm and dragging you off to the side, away from prying eyes.

“Take it easy,” he growls when you rip your arm away. “I can't risk leaving him here. The Jawa's could take him inside of that crawling fortress and disappear. And how the hell do you think they'll hold up against trained bounty hunters, if more were to come?”

You hated how what he said made sense. “Well they did just fine against you, didn't they?”

“They got lucky.”

“I'll be here with him,” you try and argue. _“You_ go and get the egg.”

He shakes his head, a scoff sounding through the modulator. “You couldn't hurt a baby Loth-cat.”

You exhale angrily. 

Partly because you'd had a long-ass few days, and partly because you were upset for Bean; the lack of decent sleep was also a big factor. 

Or at least, that's your excuse for what you did next.

“No I couldn't,” you agree through gritted teeth, before pulling back your right foot - “because I'm not a monster who likes hurting cute, tiny babies!” - and aim it straight for his shin.

He doesn't even flinch at the contact.

You hold your breath, trying to ignore the pain radiating through your toes.

It eventually leaves your lungs in an angry puff. 

“I was aiming for your leg,” you admit sheepishly, voice strained. “Stupid armour got in the way.”

“Are you done?” He questions.

He doesn't sound angry.

Maybe, a bit annoyed.

You suppose he had a lot of patience.

Probably needed it considering his line of work. 

“I'm coming with you,” you decide. He was right; you wouldn't be able to do much to protect Bean from other hunters or the Jawa's. “And if you say no, I'll aim a little higher and more towards the middle.”

“Try it,” he warns you lowly. “Others have died for less.”

A thrill shoots through you, though you're not sure why.

Shouldn't you be scared with him threatening you?

Instead, your insides burned, a feeling you'd never experienced before.

You don't respond, too busy pondering on your reaction to him.

Eventually, he steps pass you, throwing an, “So much for being good,” over his shoulder.

At first you bask in your victory, because he hadn't said _no_ to your demand, but then his parting words sink in. 

“Crap,” you mutter, realising you weren't doing yourself any favours by showing him attitude. 

If anything, he's gonna be counting down the minutes to be rid of you.


	9. Chapter 9

The Sandcrawler takes you close to the Mudhorn's Den, stopping when the land becomes a little too bumpy for it to travel over.

The ramp lowers and the three of you step outside. You follow Mando, who seemed to know exactly where he was going, and suck in a much needed breath of fresh air. 

Boy, did that place _stink._

You put a good amount of distance between you and the Sandcrawler when Mando suddenly stops and turns to you. 

“Hold out your hands,” he orders.

You want to argue, it physically _hurts_ not to argue, but kriff it, you needed to start being 'good' at some point.

So you do as he says, your wrists brushing each other.

He slaps on the cuffs. 

You pout without meaning to.

“You want to come with me? Fine.” He locks them before placing a small coin on them. If you had to guess, you were now tethered to him – or to the pod. Maybe both. “Then we do it my way. Frankly, I'm getting a little sick of your attitude."

You resist the urge to flip him your finger.

He must still be upset from earlier, because you can't remember doing anything in the last hour to trigger him.

He _had_ let you off surprisingly easy considering you'd _kicked_ him...and then threatened his family jewels. Maybe he'd been dwelling on his lack of action during the journey and decided to make up for it now.

Oh well.

It is what it is. 

You start moving again.

Bean floats beside you, curious of his surroundings as usual. The Mandalorian remained silent as you trekked towards the Den. 

You reach what appears to be a crater in the sand and enter it. You're over half-way through it when Mando stops with his back to you, checking over his armour and readying his gadgets.

“You stay out here with the kid,” he rasps before pulling out his blaster and stepping towards the mouth of the Den.

It was so dark inside. 

It engulfed him.

Your eyes flicker over the entrance, hairs on the back of your neck standing.

Automatically, you reach to the side with your cuffed hands and grab Bean's pod before stepping back with it. A breeze washes over you.

You didn't have a good feeling about this. 

A slow thirty seconds pass. You think, you can hear your own breathing. 

And then, you can hear blaster shots.

Welp.

_Guess the Mudhorn is home._

As if confirming your thoughts, a thunderous roar erupts from the cave, soon followed by a flying Mandalorian who lands harshly on his back.

Mud flies; spitting on your boots. 

The Mandalorian groans as he attempts to sit up, his chest piece heavily damaged and hanging off.

You're about to rush over and see if he's okay when the Mudhorn steps out of it's cave.

Another roar leaves it. It's horn held high in a threatening manner.

_Oh kriff._

It was freaking huge!

You'd heard of Mudhorns before. 

Read about them. 

Seen pictures.

But _nothing_ could have prepared you for the real thing. 

You awkwardly manage pull Bean behind you with cuffed hands, and step back, your instincts telling you to run but at the same time, you couldn't just leave the Mandalorian...

... _Could you?_

The Mudhorn's steps rumble the ground as it fully exits the Den and into the crater, which was starting to feel more and more like an arena.

Now sitting upright, Mando pulls his rifle off his back and lines up a shot. You hear the click of the trigger but nothing happens.

“Shoot it!” you say out of panic.

“I'm trying!” he grits back. 

You can't see what he's doing with his back to you, but you can see his arms moving.

The Mudhorn roars at the sky.

Mandalorian manages to stand.

You watch with a pounding heart as the Mudhorn charges straight for Mando, and hits his armour with the base of it's horn, once again sending him flying.

Your lips part in shock and you almost trip over your feet. “Oh shi- _Mando_!”

Bean lets out an unhappy peep. His worry clashes with your fear.

You both watch as he lands, wincing at the pain he must have felt. 

More mud flies. 

By now, he was drenched in it. 

Your eyes flicker back to the Mudhorn...

... _Only to find it's attention already on you_.

Your heart stops.

Breath catches.

Fingers squeeze the lip of Bean's pod.

And then it's charging; feet pounding against the ground.

You're sure you're going to die. 

Unlike the Mandalorian, you didn't have armour protecting your delicate flesh.

You just prayed your body is enough to protect Bean. To buy him some more time.

But then something invisible yanks at your cuffs, pulling you out of the way and to the side with a yelp. You fall into the mud, sputtering when some of it lands in your mouth. 

Bean hovers beside you, having moved with you. Thankfully he was safe. 

.. _.For now._

_The tether,_ you realise. 

The tether had allowed the Mandalorian to throw you out of the way. 

A kriffing blessing in disguise. 

You let out a laugh/cry at the ground.

The sound of a flame thrower has you turning, your eyes finding the Mandalorian who was currently being pinned down by the shaft of the Mudhorn's horn. It must have circled back round to Mando

You gulp. 

It's horn alone was longer in height than the Mandalorian.

Mando tries to ignite it into flames again. The wet mud coating it's fur stops the fire from catching, but the heat of it does manage to force the Mudhorn away.

You slip on the mud as you pull yourself to your feet; Mando aims his grapple and shoots. 

It hits the Mudhorn in the face and latches on.

Pissed, the Mudhorn tries to shake it off before turning and sprinting, the Mandalorian literally being dragged through the mud.

“What did that achieve?” you ask out-loud incredulously. 

You watch as Mando tries to stand, struggling to get his balance whilst being pulled. But then the grapple snaps or loses it's purchase on the Mudhorns face, and he's rolling along the ground, stopping just at the entrance of the Den. 

The Mudhorn circles back just as Mando pulls himself up.

You can't watch as Mando, once again, goes flying, and there was _nothing_ you could do...

Why hadn't he given you a weapon?

Sure, you could barely aim, but at least it would have been _something._

Better than standing here and watching as he was slowly thrown to death.

“Go!” The armoured man orders you gruffly from the ground. 

Your heart sinks. “What?”

“I said – _go_!” he presses the device on his wrist and the cuffs fall off you, hitting the ground with a thud.

He was letting you free.

You should be happy. 

You _should_ be making a run for it.

But something kept you there.

“I can't just leave you!” You argue. 

But it's not like you could do anything to help him, either.

The Mandalorian manages to kneel. You spot a knife in his hands.

“I'll hold it off,” he rasps, pain evident in his voice. “Just get out of here.”

The Mudhorn starts bashing it's horn against the ground, making a show of it. It's like it knew how weak Mando was, and how little of a threat you and the kid were. 

It knew this was the finale and was in no rush to end it.

For some reason, you think back to your childhood, as you look upon the Mandalorian, kneeling, helmet lowered and holding up his weapon with two hands. 

He didn't look afraid or hesitant. 

He was okay with dying this way; so you and the kid could get to safety.

_He was a hero._

...Reminding you _exactly_ how you felt about the Mandalorian who got rid of your monsters when you were younger.

You think, for that reason alone, you can't _not_ do anything. 

But you didn't have a weapon. What the kriff could you-

And then you spot it. 

His rifle laying in the mud. 

You lunge for it without thinking just as the Mudhorn charges towards Mando.

Your fingers manage to grip it, though it was slippery as hell, and you hold it above your head like a spear, hoping the tip will be sharp enough to do at least _some_ damage.

And then with a war cry, you sprint towards the side of the Mudhorn and get ready to thrust it into it's neck before it can do the same to the Mandalorian.

Only for the unexpected to happen.

Inches away from penetration, on both yours and the Mudhorns part, you feel a buzz in the air, tangy on your taste buds. 

It was a familiar feeling, one you knew well, but never had it felt so.. _.powerful_.

The Mudhorn stops, struggling in it's place, as if being pulled back by a leash.

And then, _it starts to float._

It struggles in the air, limbs flailing.

You watch, lips parted and chest heaving, weapon still raised, in complete disbelief.

You knew without turning what was causing it.

You could feel it.

But you'd never seen Bean pick up something so _heavy_ and _alive_ before.

You slowly lower your weapon, eyes dragging over to Mando who'd pulled himself into a stand and lowered his knife. 

His helmet was already facing your direction.

And then in sync, you both turn to the kid.

His tiny three-fingered hand was raised, his face morphed into an expression of intense concentration. 

He was trembling.

He was struggling.

_He was tiring._

“Kill it - quickly,” you tell Mando. “He can't hold it for much longer.”

You could feel him weakening in your bond, the buzz slowly fizzling out.

As if on cue, the power fades like a dead battery, and Bean collapses backwards in his cot. 

You don't blame him; just watching left you feeling drained. 

The Mudhorn falls, disorientated.

The Mandalorian thrusts his knife into it's neck without hesitation.

And with a mighty quake, the creature falls. 

Dead.

You rush over to Bean now there was no longer a threat, pressing your hands to his delicate little cheeks and head.

He was warm, but he was breathing.

You could still sense him in your bond. Thank goodness.

He should be okay, but never had he passed out so abruptly before, so you couldn't help but worry. 

Behind you, Mando makes sure the Mudhorn is well and truly dead before he steps up beside you.

“He alright?” he questions with a small amount of hesitance. You can hear how breathless he was.

“Should be,” you nod, gripping his tiny hand in yours and squeezing. Your eyes cut over to Mando, who was more mud than man. “You've got a bit of dirt on you.”

He makes a sound, which you think, might have been an exhausted laugh. He gestures tiredly to your own clothes. “I'm not the only one.”

“Yeah.” You agree, looking down at yourself. 

The entire front of your clothing was stained with thick, brown sludge, along with your arms, and hands, with a few specks you're sure are on your face. 

“I think,” he starts, flicking his helmet towards the baby but keeping his visor aimed at you. “There's something you need to tell me. Isn't there?”

His voice was low; dangerous.

It sounded like a question, but you knew it wasn't. 

You sigh. “Can we do this later?” you request weakly. 

You were too worried about Bean, and felt too uncomfortable in your clothes right now, to be playing 50 questions.

He nods after a moment of consideration. “Later, then.” His helmet turns towards the Den. “Let's go get the egg.”

–

Your stomach turned as you witnessed the Jawa's feasting on the yellow yolk of the Mudhorn egg. It was something you would have rather avoided experiencing in your life-time.

Shortly after their feast, they started shifting parts of Mando's ship onto Kuiil's trailer. The armoured man watched over them, reminding them to _'be careful'_ with his parts. 

You ask Kuiil to look after Bean so you could put on some clean clothes. He accepts, and you head over to the trailer where a nice pile of parts were forming and grab your bag from the back.

You hesitate before leaving, knowing Mando would probably be pissed if he found out you'd disappeared. So you step over to him and tap his shoulder from behind.

He turns to you, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I'm gonna get changed,” you inform him, holding up your bag. “Just wanted to let you know so you don't think I've done a runner.”

_See?_

_You were being good._

He nods once. “Stay close. Don't take too long or I'll have to come find you.”

You give him a sarcastic salute before turning and heading towards the back of the Sandcrawler. You're halfway there before your gesture sinks in and you sigh to yourself.

Why were you like this?

You'd been so close...

You'd _almost_ managed to be good. 

Maybe next time.

The back of the Sandcrawler was quiet, no Jawa's in sight, but you knew that one could come around the corner at any moment. So you try and change quickly, peeling off your pants and shirt before placing them with new ones.

You were just pulling your new top over your head when giggling reaches your ears. You turn and roll your eyes when you spot 3 Jawa's sticking their head around the corner.

They duck when they see you've noticed them.

_Perverts._

“Hey!” growls a familiar modulated voice. “You wanna get vaporised like your friends? Get the hell away from there!”

They scurry away, chattering fearfully.

Being spied on didn't bother you. How could it, when you'd had the worst possible violation? It was almost normal to you at this point; like you expected this kind of thing to happen. 

So you let yourself smile when you realise how the Mandalorian was protecting you in his own way, whether he was aware of it or not. 

You leave your dirty clothes out of your bag, not wanting them to stain anything inside, and hang them over your arm as you head over to where the Jawa's had stood.

You're surprised when you turn the corner to find Mando there, leaning back against the Sandcrawler with his hands folded over his belt and one foot crossed in front of the other. 

He was looking straight ahead, a good few feet away from the corner so you knew he wasn't trying to spy on you like they were.

Your heart warms.

He'd stayed there, making sure no more tried to catch a peek.

“Hey,” you greet softly.

_You had no idea how you felt about this man any more._

Mando glances at you. “If you want to shoot them, I won't stop you.”

You shrug, strangely flattered at his offer, and step towards him. “People are perverts. It's what they do. I'm used to it.”

He just shakes his head before pushing himself off the transport crawler. “You shouldn't be.”

_Maybe,_ you think as you watch him walk away before following him back to the trailer. You place your bag on it along with your soiled clothes.

\--

Mando continued watching over the Jawa, making sure they didn't try and keep anything. Kuiil stayed with you, perched on of the three barrels the Jawa's had left outside of their Crawler.

You sat with Bean in your arms, needing him as close a possible. Your bond was quiet, and although you could sense him, it wasn't the same, because he wasn't responding back; kind of like a one sided conversation.

It was similar when he slept, except you were aware of his feelings as he dreamt. Right now, he was too deep in slumber to feel anything. 

You press your lips against his head and rock him, more for your comfort than his.

“Is he still sleeping?” Kuiil asks. You can hear the concern in his voice.

He had yet to hear details of what happened, so his worry must stem from watching you and the way you were coddling Bean.

“He exhausted himself.” The Mandalorian makes his appearance, placing his foot on top of the spare barrel and resting his wrist on his knee. “Or at least that's what I think. Care to start explaining?”

You sigh, gaze on Bean, watching the way his little lips moved as he rested.

His old care-takers words echo through your head. 

_“He can do-do extraordinary things, our boy.”_

You figure it's a good place to start as any. “Bean can do...extraordinary things.”

Kuiil frowns. “What do you mean?”

“He saved my life,” Mando fills him in. “He...lifted...the Mudhorn before it could strike me.”

“Lifted?” Kuiil blinks.

“Yes,” Mando confirms, gaze firmly on you and the kid.

You look up from Bean and find them both watching you expectantly. You blow out a breath, not knowing what to say.

Not knowing how _much_ you should say.

“I don't know why he can do these things,” you clarify first. “And I don't know everything he can do. I've only seen a few of them...”

“Such as?” Kuiil questions, intrigued. 

Mando tilts his head, also wanting to know.

“Umm...He can...grab...things. From a distance. And...pull...them to him. He healed me, once.” You nibble your lip, eyes landing on the Mandalorian. “When you hurt your arm, and he insisted on being near you...I believe he was trying to heal you then, too.”

Mando's helm tilts downwards at the kid, but he says nothing.

You wish you could see his expression. 

You wonder how he feels about handing the kid over now, considering all he's learnt.

_...considering the kid saved his life._

“It makes him sleepy. Or the little things do, I guess.” You frown, looking down and holding him a bit more tighter to you. “He's never done anything like that before.”

It's silent for a moment as they take in your words. 

And then Mando wants to know:

“How did you end up with him?”

You consider lying.

You consider telling the truth.

You decide to do a bit of both. “We've always been together.” Tears sting your eyes as you look over his little face. 

You wish he would wake up. 

It had been a long time since you felt this alone. 

You look over at the Mandalorian, blinking away your tears. “And _nothing_ is going to change that.”


	10. Chapter 10

You return to the Mandalorian's ship after the sun goes down.

Both of the men decide to get to work straight away.

You're not sure how they're managing to stay on their feet, considering they'd had _less sleep_ than you. 

Then again, Kuiil used to be a slave. Who knows how long he was made to go without rest?

And the Mandalorian was a bounty hunter. You guess that they went a few nights without sleep, too.

It made you feel, admittedly, _more than_ pathetic. 

So you ignore your aching body _(kriff_ were you going to get toned at this rate) and ask what you can do to help. 

It's not like you'd be able to sleep without knowing Bean was okay, anyway. 

You weren't an expert on ships, but you did know ship parts. So you organised which pieces went where whilst the men started installing them. 

Once you'd finished organising, you found yourself holding up a panel whilst Kuiil wielded it into place. The two of you were inside of the ship, in the upper cargo hold just behind the cock-pit. 

The Mandalorian's ship was pretty impressive, you couldn't lie.

It was just getting light outside, the sun shining through the last panel you had yet to place. 

“I had a conversation with the Mandalorian yesterday whilst you were sleeping,” Kuiil informs you out of the blue, having just finished with the panel.

“Oh?” You let your hands fall away from it and you turn to fetch the final one.

“I wanted to know if you were also part of his bounty.” He gets in position to wield the panel when you place it against the opening, but doesn't turn on his tool yet. 

You think of his words, finding yourself curious about the answer. “And?”

“Not by name. Or by your own tracking fob,” he tells you. “His client was vague, but we both agreed you're wanted simply by association, rather than targeting you specifically.”

You nod. You'd kind of figured the same thing. Mando hadn't exactly been open about this job, or with you at least (then again, you hadn't asked, either), but he'd dropped little details throughout your time together. 

“He had another care-taker before me,” you reveal. “She was old. Older than 50. She was probably there since his birth.”

“In truth, I find all of this hard to follow.”

“Yeah. I don't blame you.”

“But I do know that the Mandalorian will make the right decision.”

Your eyes search his expression, heart skipping a beat. 

Was he saying what you thought he was saying?

“You mean...” you pick your words carefully, lowering your voice. “You think he'll change his mind? You don't think he'll hand us over?” you whisper eagerly. 

“I have spoken,” he says simply before switching on the wielder.

_Back to work you go_ , only now, you had more of a bounce. 

Maybe this would turn out just fine.

–

The ship was finished by the next morning. 

You _barely_ managed to convince them to stop and eat something the night before, but you persisted, and they even took turns to catch a hour of rest. 

The dread you'd been feeling leading up to this moment was squashed by Kuiil's words. He didn't think Mando would hand you over, even with the attitude you'd tried to hold back on. 

Good thing Bean was cute because you didn't do you or him any favours.

You all stood in the lower cargo bay, all three doors open to air out the smell of wielding and floating particles. You took it upon yourself to sweep the floor, edging the dirt, dust and sand outside.

Bean still didn't have shoes or socks so you didn't want him walking around and injuring himself when he woke up.

And he _would_ wake up.

Any time now.

(you try not to think about the fact he's still not awake because it downright _kills_ you)

“I can't thank you enough,” Mando tells Kuiil gratefully. 

You stop what you're doing, realising that this was goodbye, and head over to them, holding the broom in your hands.

The Mandalorian continues, “Please allow me to give you a portion of the reward.”

You frown at that. Obviously he hadn't changed his mind... _yet._

Kuiil shakes his head. “I cannot accept,” he argues. “You are my guest and therefore I am in your service.” He leans down and picks up his bag before drapping it over his shoulder.

“I could use a crew member of your ability,” the armoured man offers. “And I can pay handsomely.”

“I am honoured, but I have worked a lifetime to finally be free of servitude.” His eyes shift to you pointedly. “Perhaps you'll find a decent crew-member elsewhere.”

Mando's head tilts towards you and you smile at him sweetly, even going as far to flutter your eyelashes.

Not being coy about it. 

_At all._

He sighs, turning back to the Ugnaught. “Then all I can offer is my thanks.” 

“And I offer mine. Thank you for bringing peace to my valley.”

You butt in, wanting to get a chance to say your own goodbye. “It was great seeing you again, Kuiil.” You smile at him. “Hopefully, this won't be the last time.”

“You are a good woman, Possum,” he says warmly. You miss the way the Mandalorian freezes at the name. “Much too good for what awaits you.” He says it so casually, you can't even tell if it's a dig.

You grin.

_He remembered your name._

You and Mando watch as he walks down the ramp and jumps onto his Blurrg. It saddens you how much Bean would have loved to see the creature one last time. 

He might have even got a chance to ride it with you, had he been awake before the repairs were finished. 

Kuiil has one more thing to say before he departs, “And good luck with The Child. May it survive and bring you a handsome reward.” There's something in his tone of voice...as if he knows something the Mandalorian doesn't. _As if he knows he'll make the right decision_. He nods. “I have spoken.”

Mando recovers enough to nod back.

“Possum?” he questions after a moment, tone unsure.

“Just a nickname,” you shrug, frowning. You glance over at him but he was still watching Kuiil. “Why?”

“Heard it before,” he answers after a second. “I'm not sure where from.”

Oh. “It's an animal. Probably why.”

He says nothing, only presses the button which closes all 3 ramps. 

–

Mando uses the tether to manoeuvrer Bean's pod onto the seat behind the right side of the pilots chair. You silently place yourself on the seat to the left, leaving yoUr bag to topple over onto the floor, and watching his movements closely.

You want to ask if he's really going through with this.

You want to ask him to reconsider.

But you don't.

Because you didn't want to push him. Didn't want to end up having the opposite effect.

So you wait patiently as he flicks a few buttons. The engines roar to life and you feel the rumbling of the ship underneath you. Mando waves, to who you assume is Kuiil, before the ships launches.

It's almost sad leaving the planet behind and not just because of your unknown fate, but because it had been your home for at least a year.

_One of the best years of your life_ , you think, glancing over at Bean.

At the same time, Mando looks over his right shoulder, gazing into the pod where Bean slept. You watch closely as he moves a hand to grip the lip and gives it a little shake.

He'd done the same thing whilst you were repairing the ship; multiple times, actually. He was worried about the kid, that much was obvious. 

Hope blooms in you.

“He's still asleep,” the Mandalorian says unnecessarily.

“Yeah,” you nod, but you were beginning to sense him again, as if he was slowing coming back. “But he'll be awake soon.”

You were sure of it. 

You nudge him in your bond, as if needing the reassurance that you weren't just convincing yourself in order to feel better, and almost gasp out-loud when you feel him push back. 

_There you are_ , you think, so relieved you could cry. 

_Come back, Bean._

_It's time to wake up now._

“How do you know?” the Mandalorian questions.

“I...” You might tell him the real reason one day, assuming he doesn't hand you over. He has to earn that trust. “I just do.”

A smile breaks free when you see Bean move and you can't stop yourself from rushing over to him, drawing the attention of the Mandalorian.

Peering down into his pod, you find two, huge beautiful eyes looking back up at you. 

“Oh thank god,” you breathe, immediately pulling him to you. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

He coos in response.

Suddenly, you were overcome with panic, because _you just got him back._

You _couldn't_ lose him again.

The Mandalorian _couldn't_ deliver you to his 'client'.

You turn and face him, leaning against the arm of his chair and practically shoving Bean in his face. “Look, he's okay!”

You wanted to say, _LOOK HOW CUTE HE IS? I BET YOU WANT TO KEEP HIM._

But you don't. 

Because you're not quite that crazy.

_Yet._

The Mandalorian recovers quickly and takes him off you. He holds him up, looking the kid over. 

Been trills at him happily, kicking his feet in the air. 

“Glad you're okay, kid,” he murmurs before attempting to hand him back.

_No no_ , you think.

You were running out of time.

They needed to bond.

Like, _now._

“He really likes you,” you rush out, stepping back and forcing him to keep Bean. “I'm not just saying that. Whenever you're around, I can feel how excited he gets.”

The Mandalorian pauses and glances at you. 

“ _Feel?”_ He asks with a hint of suspicion, placing Bean down on a flat part of the console. 

Oh no.

You hadn't meant to say that.

But whatever.

Your mind was in too much of panic mode to give a shit. 

And it turns out, you don't need to explain, because a beep sounds and Mando's distracted by an incoming message.

A hologram plays. 

It was a man. 

“Mando. I've received your transmission. _Wonderful_ news. Upon your return, deliver the quarry directly to the client. I have no idea if he wants to eat it or hang it on his wall, but he's very antsy. Safe passage! You know where to find me.”

You make a noise of distress as the message ends.

Mando glances at you hesitantly. “I'm...sure he doesn't want to eat him.”

Bean manages to free a metal ball off the tip of a lever and places it his mouth, gnawing at it. 

“That's not a toy,” the Mandalorian scolds him, taking it off of the kid before placing it down on the console, and _away_ from the childs reach. He then picks him up by the back of his jacket and passes him to you. 

A planet catches your eye, growing bigger and bigger as you approach and you bounce on your feet nervously, placing Bean back onto the console in front of the Mandalorian.

Bean tilts his head and glances between the both of you with a coo. 

Mando sighs, flipping a switch above him as you begin your descent. 

“I know what you're trying to do,” he informs you.

_Welp._

Guess you weren't exactly being subtle about it.

“But – _look at him_ ,” you plead, pointing. “You can't do this.”

Mando only shakes his head, as if he was waiting for this to happen. He lands the ship and that's when you _really_ begin to panic.

“This is bullshit,” you blurt out, angrily grabbing your bag from the floor and flinging it onto your shoulder. 

You're not sure why.

You didn't want to get ready to leave.

You just needed to do something with your hands.

Bean's pad falls out without you noticing, drawing the kids attention. He coo's at it and struggles his way off the console. 

The Mandalorian powers down the engine and stands.

You block the path to the door. 

“We haven't done anything wrong.” You were basically on your knees begging now. You didn't care how desperate it made you look. You'd do anything to fight for Bean's life. “If you need the money, can't you just take _me_?”

“They only care about the kid,” he tells you almost softly. “Bringing you in is a small bonus. Even if I wanted to,” he speaks clearly. “Both The Client and my guild contact knows I have the ki- _The Asset_ in my possession. There's no turning back. Not now.”

“Back to calling him _'The Asset'_ , huh?" You let out a laugh of disbelief and shake your head. "Kuiil's a _liar_ ,” you're angry crying now. “He said you'd do the right thing. I trusted you would, too. What an _idiot_ I am,” you spit.

The Mandalorian suddenly looks down, and you follow his gaze.

Bean stood by his feet, a piece of paper in one hand and the other resting on Mando's leg. He hesitates before reaching down and taking the item.

You can't see what's on it; only the blank page on the back with indents from scribbling too hard, and shadows of colour. The Mandalorian stares at it for a good while, and you glance at Bean again, watching as he tilts his head at the man. 

You pick him up, overwhelmed with the need to protect him. As you stand, a mess on the floor catches your eye; Bean had got hold of his drawing pad and old pictures scattered over the floor. That explains the paper. 

You wonder which one he gave the Mandalorian.

“He...drew this?” he asks after a moment, turning the page round.

You smile sadly when you see the familiar squiggles. “I drew the original and he copied it. It's a...” a bitter laugh escapes you. “It's a Mandalorian.”

You wonder if that's why Bean was so fond of Mando in the first place. Because he recognised him from your picture, just like he had the Blurrg.

“It's good,” his voice is a little strained; perhaps, a little guilty, too. He places the picture down in his chair and shakes his head. “It's time to go.”

“No,” you say tearfully. “ _Please_.”

“I...I'm sorry.”

You nod, taking a deep breath. 

You place Bean in his pod and give him a kiss on the head, just in case the Mandalorian killed you for this.

“Yeah...Me too,” you say numbly. 

And then you reach for his blaster.

But the Mandalorian has ridiculously quick reactions, and immediately grabs your wrist before forcing your arm behind your back and pressing your front against the wall. 

He exhales roughly behind you. “Seriously?” Okay, great, now he's _annoyed._

“That played out a lot better in my head,” you murmur mostly to yourself.

You were pinned against the wall by his body, but he didn't put his full weight on you, seemingly respecting your personal space.

…Which you appreciated, you _really did_ considering your unfortunate experiences with perverts in the past, but for some _dumb_ reason, you also felt disappointed.

You think...you wanted to feel him?

What was happening to you?

“You realise I'm going to have to cuff you for that?” he dead-pans. A spike of heat shoots through you but it's quickly engulfed with fear. But not of him, strangely you didn't fear him _at all,_ but of your future - _Bean's_ future.

“I figured,” you respond dryly.

Bean giggles and you sigh as you're once again restrained.

–

Storm troopers led you through the dim hall.

One gripped your arm whilst the other held onto the front of Bean's pod, pulling it a little too harshly.

You were about to scold him but the Mandalorian did it for you.

“Easy with that.”

The Storm Trooper turned. “ _You_ take it easy,” he retorts.

You enter a room, the Troopers spacing out and forming a circle around the three of you. An old man wearing a long robe stands, a beeping tracking fob in his hand.

“Yes,” he hisses triumphantly with a heavy accent, stepping closer. “Yes, yes, yes.” 

The beeping goes wild; The Client stopping and leaning down towards Bean. 

You resist the urge to push him away and try to inch closer to Bean, only to be pulled back roughly by your arm.

The Storm Troopers touch repulsed you. Made you feel dirty and sick and vulnerable. 

Another man approaches, dressed in a smart, white jacket with big circular glasses. A doctor. Or a scientist. He pulls out a device and a red light appears on Bean's face as he scans the kid.

Bean garbles uncomfortably. 

You can feel his nerves through your bond.

“Hey! What are you doing?” You meant to sound casual in your question, not wanting to get into trouble, but your anger and protectiveness seeps through, making it more of a demand.

The Trooper slams a foot against the back of your leg. 

You grunt and fall to your knees. 

He places his weapon against the back of your head. 

“Silence!” he orders you.

“Come on,” Mando says, surprising you. He sounded calm, but you sensed agitation there, too. “She's just a kid. Is that necessary?”

“Enough!” the Client orders, his attention on the man scanning Bean. “Well?”

“Very healthy,” the man with glasses confirms. 

Despite what's happening, you can't help but think: _good to know his questionable diet hasn't done any harm._

The old man's gaze lowers to you. “And the care-taker?”

It was your turn to be scanned. 

You lean away from it only for the Trooper to hold you steady.

“Her vitals indicate she's stressed and fatigued but otherwise healthy,” he says after a moment and the Trooper lets you go.

“Your reputation was not unwarranted,” The Client tells Mando approvingly. 

“How many fobs did you give out?” the Mandalorian wants to know.

“I had to ensure it's delivery,” he responds before turning his attention to you. “Stand, child,” the Client requests, moving in front of you.

Silently, you do as he says, not wanting to give the Storm Trooper another reason to touch you 

Over his shoulder, you could see the Mandalorian watching, helm tilted towards you.

“Mm, yes, this pleases me,” he hums. “The Asset and it's Care-taker, unarmed. Impressive. You will receive a handsome bonus for your outstanding work, Mandalorian.”

Suddenly, the old man grabs your jaw and you jump, trying to pull away only for the Troopers gun to end up back against your head. 

You breathe heavily, biting back your insults. 

Mando forces himself to look away.

_Coward._ You want to spit at him. 

_This is because of you and you can't even watch!_

“Can he sense it?” The Client questions almost in awe. “Your fear? Your pain? Just how far does your force-bond extend? When did it start? So many questions.” 

He let's you go. 

You didn't even realise you were tip-toeing until the heels of your feet land back against the floor.

He continues, “And you _will_ answer them,” he pauses for dramatic effect before-

_-Saying your kriffing name._

Your mouth falls open.

The Mandalorian's head snaps back over to you.

But you're not looking at him; you're staring at the old man who moves casually behind his desk.

“How...do you know who am I?” You're suddenly terrified and Bean must sense it because he lets out a frightened _eh_.

“Possum,” Mando murmurs, still staring at you. 

Your eyes flicker to him. 

…And then he says your Fathers name. 

You blink in response, confused. 

_How did he know-_

But The Mandalorian wasn't finished:

“You're.. his daughter,” he follows it up with, although it didn't sound like a question; it sounded as if he'd just put all the pieces of a puzzle together

...And he couldn't quite believe it.

“W-what?” you question almost hesitantly, your heart pounding. 

Ice leaks into your veins. 

The Client looks between you, almost amused as he pulls a camoto of Beskar onto his desk. “Is this...some kind of reunion?”

Your chest heaves, hands tremble in the cuffs, as you search the Mandalorian's helmet. 

You want to scream, _Well? IS IT?_

But you can't find words.

_There's no way..._

The Mandalorian doesn't respond, so you decided that, _yeah,_ you'll take it upon yourself to find out. 

“Is it _you?_ ” you question tearfully. 

_Stars_ , you hoped it was him.

But at the same time, you _really_ hoped it wasn't.

“Did you make the bad man go away?” You push, voice small and wavering. 

You'd asked him the same question when you were a child. 

For a moment, you don't think he'll answer, but then he gives you a quiet: 

“I did,” in a broken voice, his response mirroring the one he gave you years ago.

It was like being back in time.

You can't breathe.

Only stare.

Unblinking.

The Client grows bored. 

“Here is your payment,” he says in a way which tells you he was in the process of dismissing the Mandalorian. “To the winner go the spoils.”

The Mandalorian breaks his gaze away from you. You watch as he rigidly walks over to the desk and grabs two pieces of Beskar from the comoto.

Mando stays silent.

“Such a large bounty for such a small package,” The Client comments.

The Doctor leads Bean out of the room.

Your little sweetheart gives a heartbreaking cry as the Mandalorian allows him to be taken. You can feel his distress and fear and _it fucking breaks you_.

You're being pulled away next, but you can't go without leaving a few parting words for Mando.

“I spent my _whole life_ thinking you were my hero!” You spit at him, tears burning your eyes. But you don't care. “I _idolized_ you, and _this_ is the kind of person you are?!”

His helm locks onto you as you're forced from the room.

“I hope you _remember_ – I hope it _fucking haunts_ you when you _remember_ -”

The Trooper grunts as it struggles to move you before wrapping his arm around your waist and picking you up.

“-The little girl who _fucking adored you -_ and the kid, oh _god_ the kid - you fucking _killed_ us!" You snarl at him, cheeks wet. You weren't sure if these people intended to end your life, but with the future you had ahead of you now, you might as well as been dead. "You _killed_ us!"

And then he disappeared from your sight as you were carried through the door, still fighting. 


	11. Chapter 11

It came back to him in pieces.

_The image of your home._

_Ran's call, suggesting him for the job. “Oh, Mando, you're gonna enjoy this one..”_

_Rage. Anger. Hatred. The screams of a monster. Satisfaction._

Din tries to forget, but the flashes continue, even as he takes his reward to the armourer. He had hoped a new set of Beskar armour would help. 

He was wrong. 

His own brothers hound him, as if he needed more reasons to hate himself right now. 

His helmet is almost removed during the squabble, but despite it remaining in place, he still leaves the covert feeling less of a Mandalorian.

_Meeting your father. Hearing the job details._

_You, so small and vulnerable on the staircase, curious of the strange man in your home._

_The blood of your attacker coating his T-visor. His gloves, soaked through and stained._

_“Hi-” you're out of breathe, “-my name is-” / “I know who you are,” he interrupts. / “My Mum calls me Possum sometimes. Did you know that too?”_

Din makes it back to his ship and the scenes keep replaying. 

He begins to wonder if he knows who he is any more. 

The guilt eats away at his identity. 

The cock-pit is a mess with the kids drawings and he hesitantly, but gently, packs them away in your bag. When he's finished, he spies another one on his chair and grabs it. 

The picture the kid did of a Mandalorian. 

He sits. Stares at it. Hands shake.

The colours on each piece of armour seem so familiar - 

_“He...drew this?” he asks after a moment, turning the page round._

_You smile sadly when you see the familiar squiggles. “I drew the original and he copied it. It's a...” a bitter laugh escapes you. “It's a Mandalorian.”_

Din finds it hard to swallow. 

You'd drawn the original, and he recognised it because it was him. 

_“Did you make the bad man go away?”_

Your voice echo's through his head but he can't tell which version of you is saying it. 

All he could see from the moment he'd realised who you were was that little girl who he'd promised to keep safe. 

_“If there’s more bad guys who want to hurt me, will you make them go away, too?”_

He places the picture down on his console before he accidentally tears it out of anger. 

_No_ , he thinks to himself in response. 

_No, I won't._

_I'll deliver you to them instead._

Din catches a reflection of himself in the metal ball the kid had played with. 

The kid had loved that thing; Din's insides hurt. 

The Beskar of his helmet glares back at him, forged from the payment given by your father. 

His _first ever_ payment of Beskar.

Din had always wore it with pride. It's a part of the reason he'd never forgotten that job. 

Now he just felt unworthy. 

How was he supposed to look at himself ever again, with his own armour being a constant reminder?

And not even just his helmet any more, but every part of him was covered in yours and the kids blood. 

_The kid..._

The kid who'd cooe'd and babbled his way under Din's skin.

The one who'd tried to heal him, for no reason at all, other than understanding he was in pain and knew he could be the one to take it away.

He'd saved his life from the mudhorn. 

Din had been his enemy...and he'd _saved_ him. He found it hard to wrap his head around such kindness.

He can still hear the kid cry as he was taken. He wonders what the kid had been thinking. 

_I thought you were my friend, why are you giving me away?_

_I'm scared._

_Help me._

_Come back._

An image of 7 year old you, crying and standing next to the kid who sounded equally as stressed, plays in his head. Slowly, blood begins to soak through both your clothes.

His heart hurts so bad, he wonders if it's failing. 

They're probably hurting you both right now-

Din doesn't finish the thought before he's standing and rushing out of his ship. 

\--

You're taken to what you assume is an interrogation room. 

They've already scanned you again and taken both DNA and blood samples. They stayed tight-lipped about their plans for you, and refused to give you any information about Bean.

You could sense him just a few rooms over from you. He was distressed, most likely from being alone and also sensing your fear, but there was no way to spare him from your feelings without closing off your side of the bond, and you wasn't sure abandoning him would be any better for his emotional state.

At least he wasn't hurt.

_Yet._

Eventually the Doctor you'd learned was called _Doctor Perish_ left along with your samples and a Storm Trooper, leaving you alone with the remaining one. 

He stared at you, or perhaps the wall behind you, as you sat with your wrists shackled to the bolted-down table. 

“Tell me where the baby is!” You demand, leaning forward with your palms flat on the table. “Take me to him! _Now!_ ”

Your confidence came from your fear. 

They had Bean. 

_And Mumma bear was pissed._

Your guardian ignored you, hands resting on the weapon held against his front. 

His lack of reaction frustrated you.

You grew up practically a Princess. You weren't used to _not_ getting your way. 

“You have kids?” you question casually, deciding on a different approach. “Maybe a younger sibling? Someone who relies on you?”

No answer.

“Nah,” you scoff, sucking on your tongue. “You can't have. You probably don't even know what love is, do you? Were you abandoned as a child? Did your parents not want you?” You snort. “Not surprised – they probably knew you'd become a monster's little _bitch_.”

You could be a real nasty when you wanted to. 

And this Trooper was about to get the brunt of it. 

His finger twitches. The movement catches your eye.

“Does working for the Empire make you feel like you're finally part of a family? Do you call the Client your _Daddy_?” you say mockingly. “ _Oh Daddy please pay me the attention I never got as a child_ -”

The Trooper throws himself forward, his torso bent over the table as he back-hands you before gripping your face. 

He doesn't give you any time to recover and work out what happened.

You're still seeing stars when he growls at you.

“I've been told I can use physical force if you get too difficult. Want to run your mouth off some more, bitch?”

He almost sounds excited by the idea.

It makes you feel sick, the idea he could be getting off on this.

You want him to get his hands off you and move away but you've just got him talking. You need to use this to your advantage.

“What do you want with the baby?” you question through crushed cheeks. Your cheek stings angrily.

“We're going to kill it once it's no longer useful,” he throws your head back. “Carry on and we'll kill you last, just so you can watch.”

_No, no, no, no, no!_

You're shaking at his words. 

“I'll kill you,” you threaten, though you're sure it would sound a lot more scary if you wasn't on the verge of tears. “I swear it – you _wait_ – I'll rip your _fucking_ _head off_.”

“Maybe I'll just go and end the little shit right now,” the Trooper decides, heading towards the door.

You don't know if he's bluffing or not.

Surely a Storm Troop whose purpose had been to guard you, didn't have the authority to end 'The Asset's' life?

_...Surely?_

You panic, heart thudding against your rib cage. 

“No!” You scream as his hand touches the door-pad. “Don't you dare – _fucking_ _**stop** **!**_ ”

And then he does just that. 

You pause your breathing. He still doesn't move. 

You realise there's a buzz in the air; in your veins, your head, your heart; your tongue as if you'd just licked a battery. 

It was everywhere. 

It reminds you of Bean, when he uses his abilities, only...this was stronger. This wasn't an echo of his ability bleeding through your bond. This was coming from you.

Could it be him? Could he have used it somehow, but...through _you?_

Could it work like that?

“S-step away,” you order unsure, but firm. 

He does; taking a single step back.

Holy shit.

You were controlling him!

Unless...he was just messing with you?

You knew how to test that. 

“You will come over here and release me!”

“I will come over there and release you,” he echoes, before doing just that as you watch with wide eyes. 

You stand, backing away, waiting for him to drop the act and shoot you. 

“Give me your weapon,” you request, and he hands it to you. You immediately aim it at him.

You gesture to the chair with the blaster. “Sit and cuff yourself.”

Holy crap you felt powerful. 

He sits and cuffs his hands to the table.

You back away to the door, aiming the blaster at him. 

You consider killing him.

It would be easy. 

But he was so helpless as he sat there and you weren't a bounty hunter or murderer. Killing didn't come easily to you. 

You think of the Trando you'd shot, but that was different, you were fighting. This Trooper couldn't hurt you right now. It felt wrong to shoot a tied up animal. You're not sure you could live with it. 

But he _had_ threatened to kill Bean, and called him a 'little shit'.

“You'll tell all of your friends how you got your ass handed to you by me,” you say instead of shooting, because words had power _(literally_ in this case). “You'll...you'll tell them you were so scared of me, you _pissed_ yourself.”

Your lips part in shock and you hold back a laugh as liquid drips from the chair, forming a small, straw coloured puddle on the floor. You decide it's time to leave before the scent reaches you, and you turn, opening the door. 

_I'm coming, Bean._

–

Your bond leads you to Bean like a tracking fob. 

Only, he was no longer awake, no longer responding to your nudges. 

And that terrified you, not knowing what they'd done to him, but at least he wasn't dead. That thought alone kept you going.

You sneak around the building, hiding around corners whenever a Trooper approached. Eventually you manage to locate the room, and ready the blaster, only to find the door locked.

You don't hesitate to lift the gun, aim, and fire. Your first shot is a bit off, so you try again, and hit it. The door-pad sparks, and the door opens. 

You step inside and aim towards the first target you see. 

It was the Doctor, his back turned to you as he fiddled with something. He most likely presumed you were a Trooper, or even the Client. You use his momentary distraction to search for Bean.

He was unconscious on a bed, a device bridged across his body. You're not sure what it was doing to him, but if you had to venture a guess, it was monitoring his vitals.

You steady your grip on the gun. 

“What have you done to him?” you question angrily. 

Doctor Perish turns, startled at your voice. He spies your weapon and holds up his hands. 

“Please, you shouldn't be here,” he rushes over to the door and you back up toward Bean, yelling at him in warning, but he only uses a key-card to close it instead of trying to escape. “I barely managed to convince them to keep you alive as it is. If they find you, you'll be killed for sure.”

You furrow your eyebrows but don't lower your weapon.

He seemed...genuinely concerned about your well-being.

But you weren't fooled. You doubt he cared about your life; he simply thought you and Bean were more useful to him alive than dead. 

“Wake him up,” you order, stopping at the edge of Bean's bed. “Now.”

“He'll wake up on his own in a hour or so. Please,” he steps forward. “You need to go back to your room.”

“No chance in hell. Stay there!” it irked you how little he seemed to fear you. “I swear I'll shoot you.” 

You shuffle over to the side of the bed, Bean now in front of you, and use your other arm to pick him up, along with his blanket they were kind enough to place over him, and hold him close.

His head lolled onto your shoulder and your heart squeezes. You place your nose against his peach fuzz hair, breathe him in, and give him a kiss. You felt whole again, but you weren't out of danger yet. 

“Tell me how to get out of here,” you have to stop yourself from pleading. 

“There's too many of them,” he tells you, frustrated. “You're going to get yourself _and him_ killed. The less you fight this, the better chance you'll give him.”

“What kind of life would this be?” you choke up. His words stabbed you in the heart, the idea that you would be the cause of Bean's death if your escape fails. “Prodded and poked and- and experimented on? He _deserves_ to be a kid.” You swallow. “I have to give him a chance to-to...”

Suddenly, the door opens. 

You aim your gun at the same time a Storm Trooper enters. He catches sight of you and mirrors you.

“Drop the weapon, care-taker,” he orders.

“Don't!” Doctor Perish, much to your surprise, jumps in front of the Trooper. “Please. They're important. They're more useful to us alive.”

“I have my orders,” The Trooper shoves him out of the way. 

You're about to shoot when suddenly there's a blaster shot, and the Trooper falls face-first onto the floor.

You look up.

And find yourself looking -

_\- straight at The Mandalorian._

You stare, unbelieving. 

He came back?

You blink. Lips part.

_He._

_Came._

_Back!_

The Doctor trips over his feet as he backs away. “Please! Please! Nononono, don't hurt them! Please! He's just a child!” He begs and you blink again, gaze shifting.

Mando shifts his gun and shoots, the shot going over your right shoulder. You turn when you hear a clang, and find a droid on the floor. 

_Huh._

You hadn't even known it was there.

“Are you all right?” Is the first thing Mando asks as he steps inside of the room. The Doctor backs himself into the corner. 

“Y-yeah.” You still can't believe it. 

You wanted to scream at him for leaving you both behind, but you were _so fucking relieved_ because you weren't sure you could have got out of here on your own.

“The kid?” he's in front of you now, looking down at Bean's sleeping face.

You lick your dry lips. “He's just sleeping, I think.” You can't look away from his familiar helmet, and vaguely note that he'd had an armour upgrade. “...You came back.”

He's silent for a moment. “I did,” he rasps, and then, “You and the kid...you deserve so much more than this.”

A smile breaks out across your face, because Kuiil was right, he _did_ do the right thing...but then your lips turn downwards, and you find yourself frowning. 

_He came back_...so why did you still feel so betrayed? 

“Yeah, we do,” you agree after a moment, sadness leaking into your voice. “We should never have been here in the first place.”

The Mandalorian jerks, and you wonder if he was flinching at your words underneath his helmet. 

“No,” he says tightly. “No, you shouldn't have.”

Movement catches the Mandalorian's eye and his helmet tilts. You follow his gaze – Doctor Perish.

_Right._

You'd need to continue this conversation later. 

Now wasn't the time. 

“I think he's the only reason me and Bean are still alive,” you admit reluctantly. 

You wouldn't ask Mando not to kill him, but you wanted him to be able to make an informed decision. Either way, you couldn't care less, but you weren't the one who had to live with it. 

Wordlessly, he nods. You take a moment to wrap Bean in the blanket, surrounding his head with a make-shift hood, before Mando leads you from the room. Doctor Perish is left alive.

–

You duck behind some containers as Storm Troopers enter the hall. You held Bean against you with one arm, the other gripping your weapon. You weren't expecting to actually hit anything, but the least your shots would do is distract them if need be.

The Mandalorian remains in front of you like a shield and you admire his new, shiny, Beskar armour, now fully matching his helmet. 

The Troopers pass and you follow Mando as he continues down the hall, blaster raised and ready. 

You head through a doorway, and turn left, only to encounter Troopers walking into the same area. You flatten yourself back against the wall in the hall, letting the Mandalorian deal with them whilst you protected Bean. 

They exchange shots. 

Mando ducks behind the stacks of containers littered throughout the room. Your knee jerks as you instinctively go to follow him but hold yourself back against the wall; they don't know you're here, so it's best if you stay put. 

You see their flash-lights as they search the room for him.

“Give it up, there's no-” the Trooper is cut off with a grunt.

You hear fighting. Containers hit the ground. A “Hey!” from another Trooper is quickly followed by the sound of...electrocution? 

You peer around the corner when it falls silent, jumping when you find Mando in front of you.

“Come on,” he ushers you into the room.

You step over the bodies of fallen Storm Troopers as you make your way through the path of containers and enter a large hall.

Mando is in front, already turning right, so he misses the Trooper as it enters through the door behind him, to your left. 

You had the advantage, because the Troopers attention was fully on Mando, and he was relatively close to you, giving you little room for error. At the time time, a Storm Trooper steps in front of Mando, who makes quick work of him using his flame thrower. 

You aim and fire at your trooper, hitting them in the chest. 

The Trooper falls backwards, and the Mandalorian spins round, glancing between you and your kill.

He nods approvingly at you. 

Your chest swells with pride, but you only shrug at him, as if it was no big deal and you did this kind of thing daily. Plus, you were still pissed at him. 

A sudden nudge through your bond has you looking down. Two big, half-slitted eyes peer up at you. 

“Hi, baby,” you whisper down at him, holding him close.

He just blinks in response, too groggy to even trill in acknowledgement. You hold him tight and rush over to the Mandalorian, who peers down at Bean. 

“He's awake?”

“Yes,” your voice is full of relief. 

“Good,” he sounds just as relieved as you. “Now let's get out of here.”

Which is easier said than done, especially when the next hall leads you into a large open room with no cover, and you're walking through the middle of it when Troopers enter from both sides, effectively surrounding you.

“Freeze! Don't move!” They order, but you can't distinguish their voices; they all sound the same. “Hands up! Drop the blasters!”

You instinctively step back, accidentally bumping into Mando who steadies you with a hand to your hip. With his other hand, he holds up his weapon in surrender. 

“Kneel. Slowly,” he whispers to you, hand moving to your shoulder where he encourages you to lower yourself to the floor. “Wait,” he tells the Troopers. “What she's holding is very valuable.”

Your knees hit the ground and you hold Bean protectively to you, placing your blaster against the floor but not letting go. 

“There,” Mando says once you're in place. 

“Now turn and face me,” one of them orders.

You hold your breath, trying not to panic. 

You'd got this far. 

Plus, Mando must know what he's doing. 

_Right?_

There's a strange sound behind you, close enough to tell you it was from Mando, like a device loading, and then there's mechanical whistling as light trails through the dim room, hitting the Storm Troopers one-by-one. 

You blink.

It reminds you of fireworks.

_That was a new trick._

The Trooper's fall to the ground, and then the room is covered with silence. Trails of smoke are visible through small beams of light entering from the tiny windows. You can smell it, too. Like burning.

The Mandalorian helps you to your feet, and you pull Bean close, your weapon hanging by your thigh.

“I'm still mad at you,” you remind him, “But that was...awesome,” you admit.

“Whistling birds,” he tells you.

“Ah.”

He leads you into another hall, this one narrower than the others. 

The door at the end opens, and you could have cried when fresh-air hits your face and fills your lungs. 

You'd made it outside.

_You were free of that place._

...Now you just had to get off of the planet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on tumblr - come say hi! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/stop-dropping-baby-yoda-ffs


	12. Chapter 12

Mando checks the surroundings and holsters his weapon before stepping outside. 

You follow, briefly noting how dark it was. 

“We shouldn't have any trouble reaching the ship,” he tells you, leading you down the opposite alley way. “But just in case, remain vigilant.”

“I hope not,” you admit. “I've had enough excitement for one day.”

He glances over his shoulder, the tilt of his helm telling you that he was looking you over. 

“You seem untouched,” he hesitates. “Other than your cheek. They hit you?”

Strangely, you'd forgotten about that. 

You guess it was the adrenaline and your determination to find Bean forcing the pain aside. Although, now he mentioned it, it _did_ feel warm and a little swollen. 

“Hardly. He slapped like a bitch.” You think of him strapped down in that room and drenched in his own piss, ready to be found by his friends, and your lips twist into a smile. You shrug. “I got my revenge, don't you worry.” 

“Atta girl,” he nods approvingly. 

You reach the end of the alley which opens up into a slightly larger, more open path. 

The Mandalorian stays mostly in front of you, which you don't mind, because it means Bean's safe between the both of you. 

You're half-way through when the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you glance around you, realising something which chills you.

“I...I think they're watching us,” you whisper to Mando, noting the amount of eyes on you. 

“They are,” Mando confirms tightly. “We're being followed. Prepare for an attack,” he tells you before adding, “Let them make the first move.”

Suddenly, you felt very vulnerable. 

They were _behind_ you? 

You didn't want to look, in case that spurred them into action. 

You swallow in realisation, noticing one of them holding something in their hand with a red blinking light. You recognised it.

“They must have re-activated the fob,” you breathe.

Your path opens up into a large street which was becoming more full with people by the second.

Ice fills your veins.

You were completely surrounded and out-numbered.

You hoped Mando had more of those whistling things.

You're almost at the end of the street when they raise their weapons.

“Stay behind me,” Mando orders you and comes to a stop. 

You mostly already were, so you just shuffle yourself closer to his back; not for your safety, but for Bean's. 

“What are we going to do?” You question fearfully. 

He doesn't answer.

Suddenly, a voice breaks through the crowd.

“Welcome back, Mando,” the deep voice greets, stepping in front of your exit. 

You recognise him from the message on Mando's ship.

It must be his Guild contact.

The man places his hand on his weapon, and continues, “Now put the package down.”

“Step aside,” Mando tells him. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his fingers twitch at the handle of his holstered blaster. “We're going to my ship.”

You stare at the back of his helmet incredulously.

Did he _really_ think that was going to work?

Did he expect them to be like, _oh okay, bro, no problem. This was a prank anyway. Have a good day._

His Guild contact lets out an amused _hm_. “You put the bounty down and perhaps I'll let you pass,” he bargains.

“The kid and the girl are coming with me,” The Mandalorian says firmly in response.

“If you truly care about the kid then you'll put it on the speeder,” he retorts. “And we'll discuss terms. Maybe I'll even let you keep the girl. How does that sound?”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“Because I'm your only hope.”

Mando shuffles himself partly behind you, not moving his gaze away from his Guild contact. His hands rest on your elbows as he walks you over to the speeder. 

“I won't let them take you,” he murmurs to you quietly. “When I shoot, I need you to jump in the speeder and _stay down_. I'll be right behind you,” he rushes out the last part, as if he knew you'd ask.

“O-okay,” you whisper back, glancing down at Bean, whose eyes were closed. He wasn't quite asleep yet, just resting, feeling drained and drowsy, you read through your bond.

You didn't like this plan, but what choice did you have? 

He'd got you this far. 

So you would trust him, _despite_ him being the reason you were here.

You prepare to make the move, feet braced, as the seconds pass.

And then with lightening speed, he aims and fires.

You throw yourself over the lip of the speeder and quickly brace yourself over Bean, his head against your shoulder as you try and _avoid_ smothering the poor little guy with your breasts. 

Mando follows you into the speeder, admittedly much more graceful.

You let out an involuntary scream as blaster shots rain upon you, reflecting off of the lip of the speeder and the containers which helped defend you. 

The Mandalorian tried to shoot back, firing whenever there was an opening but there was too many of them. 

He rolls onto his front, which leaves him half on top of you, your head tucked under his shoulder as his arm wraps around you and Bean, keeping you down. 

“Drive!” he orders – you assume – the droid. 

You don't see it, but the droid shakes his head.

“Drive!” he growls again. The speeder leaps forward and you sigh in relief. Maybe you _would_ get out of this.

The blaster shots continue. 

You peek a glance up at Mando, catching sight of his helmet as he leaned up and retaliated fire. You could see the black fabric which clung to his neck, a small sliver of tanned skin showing between the material and the bottom of his helm. 

You gulp, suddenly feeling warm with his body half on you, his arm hugging you close and shoulder protecting your head from blaster shots. The sensation becomes almost overwhelming and you find yourself squeezing your thighs together and forcing yourself to look away. 

It was almost too much and you weren't sure what it meant, nor was now the time to try and figure it out.

The speeder gets a good distance before there's a bang upfront, and it's skidding to a stop.

Your heart drops. 

You think, _this is it._

_It's over now._

But Mando wasn't ready to give up so easily and grabbed his rifle from his back. The tip of it peeks out between the containers and he fires, before lining up another shot, and firing again.

Aim. Fire.

Aim. Fire. He continues.

“That's one impressive weapon,” The Guilder leader shouts between shots.

The Mandalorian's chest rumbles against your shoulder as he responds. “Here's what I'll do. I'm gonna walk to my ship with the kid and the girl; You're gonna let it happen.”

_Kriff that was hot_ , you can't help but think. 

_He was so_...confident and demanding. It did something to your insides and you wonder for a moment, if _this_ was what it felt like to be attracted to someone. 

“No. How about this? We take the kid, and if you try to stop us, we kill you and we strip your body for parts.”

Suddenly, Mando kicks out at a container by his feet. You instinctively move to see what was going on, but your head hits his shoulder and you huff at the floor of the speeder.

As much as you didn't mind being underneath him, you were beginning to get bored of the view – or lack of.

More shots rain upon you, and it chills you to the bone when you realise they're getting _louder_ , which means they're getting _closer and closer_.

There was only so much the speeder could take before the shots wore down the metal, exposing you. You look down at Bean, snuggled in his hooded blanket, and find him watching you.

He was still too drowsy to realise what was happening. At least he won't be afraid if the worst was to happen. You gulp back your tears, but find yourself accepting whatever was about to happen.

You'd fought. Mando had fought. You'd tried to escape. You'd both tried to give Bean a better future.

You'd done what you could. Something's couldn't be changed. Although...you think of what you did back in that room. How you managed to control that man. Maybe, if you could _somehow_ do it again, you could get out of this situation. 

Taking a deep breath in, you close your eyes, and whisper, " _Leave_ us alone." You try and put as much feeling into it as possible, but nothing happens. " _C'mon_. Just _leave_ us."

Still, nothing happens. You sag in defeat. 

Mando leans up and uses his flame-thrower to push them back, his weight no longer on you, and you turn onto your side so you had room to move – to fight instead of hide – when he laid back down.

The fire splutters to a stop, fuel empty, and the Mandalorian lowers himself, mirroring your pose, with Bean blinking sleepily between you. 

A wave of happiness fills your bond. The kid was awake enough to realise he was with the both of you. He makes little babble noise as the Mandalorian rests his hand on the kids hood, and gives it a regretful stroke.

Or perhaps it was a goodbye. 

“I-” the Mandalorian starts but seems unsure what to say. The Blaster shots keep coming. “I'm sorry, Possum.” His voice cracks. “I...I _tried_.”

Your lips part. You stare at him.

And...you don't know what to say.

You're not sure you're ready to forgive him...but if he was going to die because of attempting saving your lives, you couldn't let him do it feeling guilty, right?

He continues. “I'll try and distract them,” he tells you, tilting his head in your direction. “I'll kill as many as I can. Take the kid and-”

Suddenly he looks up. 

You follow his gaze.

New blaster shots. Bodies fell from the buildings above. 

Someone...someone was killing your enemies?

And then - 

The sky fills with people. People with jet-packs. 

No.

_Mandalorian's_ with jet-packs. 

“Holy _shit_ ,” you exclaim, wide-eyed. 

They were slaughtering the bounty hunters from all directions; from the sky, the buildings, and ground level. It was a rescue.

Mando pushes himself up and fires with them. 

“Your people are _fucking awesome_ ,” you laugh cheerfully, feeling giddy all of a sudden. 

You consider helping, you _did_ have a blaster after all, but there was so many of them, and your aim wasn't great (or even _good_ ) so you didn't want to risk hitting any of them.

_Not_ that they needed your help, of course.

A Mandalorian lands next to you, sporting a mini gun. You gape at him from over the lip of the speeder. 

“Get out of here,” he says loudly, firing away. “We'll hold them off!”

“You're going to have to relocate the covert,” your Mando informs him.

“This is the Way,” the other Mando responds simply.

“This is the Way,” Your Mandalorian echoes.

You _so_ can't help yourself. “This is the fucking Way!” 

You grin, taking in the all the different Mandalorian's and their armour. Your saviours. Well – _Mando's_ saviours. 

But still. 

Warmth swells in your chest. 

The two Mandalorian's glance at you, and you hope it's in an endearing _aw look at her using our line_ way, instead of an offended _how dare she say that_. 

You smile back at them cheekily.

The one with the gun laughs, shoulders shaking as he fires away, whilst your Mandalorian shakes his head and helps you out of the speeder. 

“Time to go,” he says, and you couldn't agree more.

–

You make it back to the ship, the Mandalorian behind you as he ushers you inside.

“Will your people be okay?” you question, concerned as your feet leave the ramp. 

You pass the first ladder which you remember leads into Mando's sleeping quarters, and head for the second; you're more than relieved to see the familiar insides of the ship.

“Yes,” he responds simply. His hand guides you towards the back of the ship, stopping just in front of the refresher and in front of the second ladder. 

You move the blaster into the back of your pants, and you're about to head up the ladder one-handed, Bean tucked against your shoulder, when - 

“Hold it, Mando,” orders his Guild contact.

You freeze, turning the side of your body which Bean was pressed against _away_ front the threat. 

He must have been hiding in Mando's quarters. The ramp had been down as you'd approached, an open invitation to the ship. Mando must have forgot to close it in the rush to get to you and Bean.

His Guild contact holds his blaster steady. “I didn't want it to come to this. But then _you broke the code_.”

Mando doesn't respond. 

You watch them both closely, not sure who was going to make the first move but you _did_ know Mando wasn't about to give up now.

Then suddenly the grapple shoots out of Mando's gauntlet and some kind of smoke fills the room between the three of you and his Guild contact. 

Blaster shots fire through it and you duck instinctively, your hand gripping the ladder.

The shots give Mando an idea of his targets location, or perhaps his helmet allows him to see through the smoke (you wouldn't be surprised with all the other cool shit he can do), because Mando fires, once, and then it goes quiet. 

“You all right?” he turns to you and you nod, standing. 

The smoke was clearing already; the open ramp allowing it to escape the ship.

“We're fine,” you tell him, glancing down at Bean. 

He blinks up at you.

“Go,” Mando says, gesturing to the ladder. You head on up. The Guild contact's body was lifeless outside of the ship, and Mando doesn't hesitate closing the ramp. 

–

You place Bean on the seat to the right; you collapsing onto the left. 

You were tired. Exhausted, even, now that you had time to rest and the adrenaline was leaving. 

You wonder if that's going to be your default state from now on. 

Lazily, you roll your head to the side, watching as Bean holds his toes and looks around the cock-pit. You could feel how happy he was to be back, and you give a small smile. 

Something catches your eye by the door. It's your bag with Bean's drawing pad neatly tucked away, slightly poking out of the top.

You can't even remember leaving your bag behind. You must have dropped it when Mando pinned you to the wall.

It occurs to you how he _actually_ took the time to tuck each drawing back into the pad, lined up in the right direction so no corners got bent. 

Suddenly, you picture him returning to his ship after handing you over and finding the mess on the floor. You imagine him looking through yours and Bean's art.

You wonder if he'd felt guilty; if the little pieces of you both being left behind in his ship helped him do the right thing. 

You wonder what he did with Bean's drawing of a Mandalorian.

...A Mandalorian he'd copied from your art, which you'd drawn from the memory of your childhood.

You wonder if he'd recognised himself in it; in Bean's scuffy, uneven lines and colouring-outside-of-the-box picture. His armour had been much different back then, and it'd been so long ago.

You're broken out of your random musing by the Mandalorian himself entering the cock-pit. He passes you both and settles in his seat, flicking switches. 

The ship hums to life and then launches.

You didn't realise how tense you felt until you were in the air, _away_ from that place. Your shoulders slump and you spot a Mandalorian outside of the ship with a jetpack.

He salutes to your Mando. Grateful for his help, you can't help but wave back. Mando settles for a nod. You both watch as he jets out of sight.

“I gotta get one of those,” Mando says.

Your eyes lock onto Bean who climbs off his chair. You don't stop him. He'd had a hard day and deserved to be a kid for a little while. 

_No_ , you smile, not for a _little_ while.

For a _long_ while. 

“If you do, can I borrow it?” you ask half-serious. 

“No,” he dead-pans. 

You laugh at the tone; at how possessive he was of something he didn't even have yet. 

“Well,” you pout. “If I get one before you, you can't borrow mine either.”

You're half tempted to buy one so you could do just that. 

Suddenly, Bean makes a happy _eee_ sound from where he stood next to the Mandalorian's chair, hidden from your sight. You cock your head curiously, wondering what he was up to, when he comes waddling out and plants himself in the middle of the floor, a familiar metal ball in his hand.

The Mandalorian must have given it to him.

_What a softie_ , you think fondly.

You also think, _what happens now?_

You consider asking the Mandalorian to drop you and Bean off at the closest planet. You were still pissed about him handing you (and most importantly, _Bean_ ) over in the first place. 

But...what if he actually _did_ leave you? You were in _no_ shape to protect him, were you? 

Sure, you could be stubborn and let your anger control your actions and leave. But you'd bet your left ass-cheek you'd be back with the client in less than a week.

The Mandalorian was your best bet right now. And while you were still pissed at him...you didn't _hate_ the idea. 

“I'm guessing this means we can stay, right?” You question, because he hadn't actually told you that, but why would he go through this much effort to save you, just to abandon you?

“Sure,” he says in a way which comes sounds casual; as if he hadn't just thrown away his life, his guild, his secure income, for you - a care-taker with an attitude and Bean, a little green goblin. 

“ _Cool_ , but, this doesn't mean I forgive you,” you make sure he knows, because had you been less tired, you would have been giving him an earful right now. “I may trust – and I use that term _loosely_ – your _ability_...to keep us safe but I'm still... _cautious_. About you. About your...morals.”

Translation: you were worried he'd leave you behind again, should things get too hard, or if the price was _just right_. 

_(maybe a back-up plan wouldn't be a bad idea.)_

Despite your need for some decent sleep, you find yourself getting angry. “And I'm pissed. I mean, how could you just -” _leave us_.

You don't finish your sentence. 

Now wasn't the time to hash this out. 

You were too raw. And he'd just saved you, hadn't he? Was it _fair_ to have a go at him? 

Ugh, your head hurt ( _and heart_ ).

“...I understand,” he responds softly; almost sounding regretful.

You snort after a moment. 

“Gotta say,” you speak teasingly, trying to lift up the mood. You think about how much he'd given up, and how you n' Bean had gained a bad-ass protector, a snazzy ship for a home, and most importantly, a life outside of that compound. “You drew the short straw on this deal.”

(You didn't know it, but he sure as hell didn't think so)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on tumblr - come say hi! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/stop-dropping-baby-yoda-ffs


	13. Chapter 13

“Bean!” you shout in alarm, watching as a tiny, naked green bottom disappeared up the ladder. 

You're not sure how the kriff he managed to get up there. 

Hell, he could have _levitated_ himself as far as you knew

But that wasn't currently your concern. You'd only turned your back for a second in an attempt to gather his clean clothes. 

Then _poof_. He was running for it, giggling to himself.

The small green baby baring all and heading his way to the Mandalorian (you were sure of it) was the only thing on your mind right now. 

The floor was wet as your rushed after him. You'd just finished washing him in the refresher, and was half-soaked through because of it. 

(you really needed to learn a new method of washing him in that thing which didn't include drenching yourself and your newly put-on clothes)

You climb the ladder, towel over your shoulder as you search the space between the cock-pit and the Mandalorian's sleeping quarters. 

“Bean,” you say warningly when you don't see him, climbing up but remaining on your knees. “Get your tiny green ass back here!”

You weren't sure how the Mandalorian would feel having a naked toddler running around on his ship barely two days after deciding to save your lives.

It wasn't too late for him to change his mind and take you both back, right?

_Right?_

“Bean,” you whisper harshly. 

You wasn't sure if the Mandalorian was awake yet, but you suspected he was already up and in the cock-pit. It was still early, and you'd decided this morning it was a good idea to get back into the routine you had back on Arvala-7.

You were starting to regret that decision. 

You groan when he doesn't respond and you're about to pull yourself up when the Mandalorian steps out of the cock-pit. Your eyes find his boots, his armour...and then his hands, which were tucked under the armpits of a giggling baby. 

“Lose something?” he rasps. 

“I'm sorry,” you apologize, standing and removing the towel from your shoulder. You use the opportunity to wrap him up in it before taking him from Mando and resting him against your hip.

He shrugs. 

“Guess now I know he's definitely a boy,” is all Mando says, sounding more amused than anything, much to your relief. 

You're glad he can see the funny side of things. Means he'll do just fine living with Bean.

You laugh, and nod, before gesturing to the ladder. “I'm gonna get him dressed then do some breakfast. You hungry?”

“I've already eaten, but thank you,” he says, and then, “I'll join you in a few moments. We should discuss our next move.”

“Cool,” you say, watching as he heads back into the cock-pit, you assume to switch on the auto-pilot, before climbing back down the ladder whilst scolding Bean and reminding him _no-one wants to see your pee-pee so at least put on some pants before you make a run for it!_

You put him on your bed located next to the refresher, gripping his leg and pulling him towards you when he tries to crawl away. It was a game of his, and he giggled, making you smile. 

_Kids_ , you think with a fond shake of your head. 

You manage to keep him still long enough to dress him in a clean tunic and underwear. You leave off his jacket, deciding that he obviously didn't feel cold if he was happy to go nude. You frown at his little feet before placing him down on the floor. 

You really needed to get him some foot-wear.

He waddles around the room, ooo'ing and ahh'ing whilst you head to the food synthesizer. You're slow as you press the buttons, trying to remember what the Mandalorian had taught you, but eventually you manage to get one bone-broth along with your favourite breakfast (both programmed in by the Mandalorian himself).

You blow on Bean's broth until it was cool enough for him to sip. 

“Say 'thank you'.” You kneel and hold the bowl out to him, your food in your other hand. 

He wasn't at a point where he could actually say words, but you didn't see anything wrong with teaching him some manners. 

He waddles over to you and babbles. It's not quite a _thank you_ , just noises, but you accept it anyway, and give him the broth.

“Good boy.”

He takes it with a happy coo, and plants himself in the middle of the floor whilst he drinks. You walk over to your sleeping area and perch on the end of your bed, enjoying your own meal. 

Mando eventually joins you. 

Bean babbles at him, holding his soup in his lap. 

The Mandalorian glances at him. 

“Morning, kid,” he greets before fetching a container. He places it next to the kid, opposite you, and sits on it, resting his forearms on his knees and leaning forward. 

It's silent for a moment, and then:

“How're you settling in?” he asks almost hesitantly. 

“Yeah. Okay. I mean-better than okay. Great, really.” You want to hit yourself for tripping over your words. You probably looked like an idiot, but you hadn't wanted to seem ungrateful by leaving it at 'okay'.

In all honestly, this is the most you'd spoken since his ship had become your home. You think he only seemed to eat in the morning(before you were awake) and at night. The rest of the time he didn't leave the cock-pit unless it was to use the refresher. So up until now, you'd mostly stayed out of each others way. 

Then again, it _had_ only been two days.

He was most likely giving you time to get used to living in his ship. 

Or avoiding you out of guilt for handing you and the kid over...

“Good,” he responds, and before he can say anything else, you blurt out:

“You know, this is...unreal.”

“In what way?” he seems confused.

It's the first time you've brought it up, but you can't help yourself. 

“Meeting you again after all these years,” you say in disbelief, placing your bowl behind you and leaning forward. “I mean – what are the chances? You're the hero from my childhood, and then the both of us go after Bean, where we meet again?” 

You continue, your lips twist into a smile. “Where it just so happens, you become the hero of my adulthood, too. W- _ell_ after you came back for us. Leaving us there in the first place was very un-hero-like,” you tease.

Sure, it still stung, and you weren't completely convinced he wouldn't leave you both behind at some point(hel- _lo_ abandonment issues), but as of right now, you were both happy, and it was thanks to him. 

“'Hero',” he says the word as if he was testing it, before shaking his head. “You're...25 years old now?”

“Yep!” Halfway through 30...kriff, you were getting old. 

Apparently he didn't agree.

“You look much younger. 18 maybe. Either way, you're still a kid.” You want to argue but before you can, he continues. “You never did say how you ended up with the kid.”

You're silent for a moment, taking a minute to think, but you figure he deserves some answers considering what this had cost him. 

“It was about a year after...” you trail off.

You're not sure what word to use.

The Mandalorian's hand forms a fist. “After he hurt you,” he offers, voice tight. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “Bean...suddenly started appearing. He made things better,” you smile, remembering. “He was my friend. You saved me from... _him_...but Bean? He helped me _heal_.”

“By 'appearing' you mean...”

“My parents thought I had an imaginary friend,” you laugh quietly. “I always knew it was more than that. They were so worried though. I ended up lying and telling them he wasn't there any more as I got older. It was easier.”

Both of your gazes land on Bean, who was slurping away at his broth. When he feels your gazes, his ears lifts, and he glances between you and the Mandalorian with a curious _eep_.

You continue, “A year ago I was sent a tracking fob. Turns out, it was Bean's. So I didn't hesitate; I left home and found him. I've been with him since.”

“I bet your parents loved that.”

“My parents...” you trail off. It had been awhile since you'd thought of them. “They probably don't even know if I'm alive,” you confess.

The Mandalorian's helmet tilts. “You haven't contacted them?”

“Nope.” And you had no plans to either. “Ah, I dunno. They aren't bad people, but they weren't home a lot. They were always leaving me with baby-sitters, my Nanna, or family friends,” you gulp at that; at the reminder. “It's how... _he_...got access to me so easily.”

“...You blame them,” he observes.

“I, uh, think? I do.” The conversation was getting a little too heavy, so you decide to change it, “I wasn't the first, you know. Bean had another care-taker before me.”

Internally, you cringe.

Were you saying too much now?

You'd been so desperate to change the subject you'd just said the first thing which popped into your head. 

“Oh?” he sounds intrigued at that. 

You sigh.

Guess it was too late to take it back now.

“Yeah. Nice little old lady. She was the one who hired the mercenaries. She died shortly after I arrived, sadly, because I still have so many questions about him.”

You're both silent for a moment. Bean stands with his bowl cupped in his hands and waddles over to Mando. He hands it to him with a babble.

The Mandalorian takes it and Bean toddles off.

“Thank you for telling me,” Mando says, breaking the silence. “You didn't have to – I wouldn't be surprised if you'd withheld information from me, considering...”

You shrug, standing quickly when you see Bean heading towards the refresher. Last thing you needed was him pawing at the evac-tube. You stand in front the entrance, crouching slightly so you could turn Bean around and nudge him away. He _ehhs_ in response. 

“We're in this together now. Right?” you add the last part hesitantly, but what you want to say is you _won't leave us behind again, right?_

“We're in this together,” he echo's firmly. 

Your shoulders sag in relief and you smile gratefully. It wasn't quite the reassurance you needed (then again, you weren't sure you'd believe it straight away if it was) but it would do. 

For now.

(you were still thinking of a back-up plan just in case)

He stands, moving the container back in place before putting Bean's bowl away. “We need to find somewhere to lay-low for a couple of months. Somewhere quiet.”

You nod. “Can it have a market? I need to buy some things.”

Mando heads towards you, stopping by the ladder and resting his hand on it. “No. Too much traffic. But we can stop off at one along the way."

Your neck cranes up at him. “That'd be amazing. Thank you.” 

He nods back before placing a foot on the ladder, and then hesitating. “You and the kid are welcome in the cock-pit at any time. You don't have to isolate yourselves down here.”

Your insides warm and you smile at him softy. “We'll be up shortly, then.”

… _Dammit._

It was going to be harder than you thought staying mad at him. 

–

The market was located on a desert planet. 

Thankfully, you still had your wrap and had cleaned your clothes the day before. So you cover yourself in your desert gear and dress Bean in his tunic. Luckily, the Mandalorian had a piece of fabric which was the perfect size to use as a makeshift hood for Bean, and you place it over his head, tying it gently under his chin, loose enough so his ears weren't pinned.

The Mandalorian stands close like a body guard as you examine the stalls, taking your time at each one before moving onto the next. Although he does give you privacy when it comes to making your purchases, and makes a point to stand back but within a distance he can cover you if needs be. 

You buy yourself some new clothes, toiletries, some wet wipes for Bean and even a small, cute loth-cat teddy bear. You also purchase an under-arm bag made with straw-coloured yarn so you had somewhere to put your items. 

Bean switches up between walking and being held by the Mandalorian when his legs grow too tired. You wasn't sure if you were comfortable with it the first time Mando picked him up – he had given Bean over to his death, after all – but the little munch-kin was so happy at the attention from the Mandalorian he adored so much, that you let it go. 

Half-way through the market and you spot a shoe-makers stall. Ignoring the small shops between you and your target, you head straight over to the humanoid shop-keeper and examine all the different designs she had laid out on display.

Your gaze lands on boots which remind you of the Mandalorian's footwear and you hold back a grin because _oh boy_ would Bean love _that_. 

_(for a second you picture Bean dressed up as a tiny Mandalorian and your heart bursts with cuteness overload)_

You point at the boots. 

“Do you do them in children's size?” you question, tucking your bag firmly between your arm and side, the strap holding it in place on your shoulder, as you turn to the Mandalorian who held Bean and gently found his tiny, green foot. 

You show her his feet.

The older lady with a bright-patterned hood and tatted, strained dress rubs her hands onto a dirty cloth before throwing it down. 

“I can take his measurements and make them,” she offers, her voice deeper than you'd expected.

“That'd be amazing,” you search your pocket for 50 credits; the asking price of the tag on the boots. “Is that enough?”

“Yes, that's fine,” she smiles as she takes the money, pockets it and writes you a receipt before cooing at Bean. “Alright, little one, you going to stay still so I can measure your adorable little feet?” 

Bean squeals happily at the fuss, giggling when the lady touches his feet and attempts to take the measurements. You grin when he tries to wiggling away from her; he was ticklish. 

You don't notice the Mandalorian's gaze on you. 

Your heart fills with warmth as you watch Bean, his little teeth showing, lips pulled back into a delighted grin; eyes bright without a care in the world. 

“Oh, Bean,” you shake your head with a laugh. This is how it should always be.

You can feel his happiness through your bond. He liked this lady. She was fun. And he liked being able to share this moment with you and the Mandalorian.

Eventually she manages to get the correct measurements and requests that you return within an hour to pick them up. You thank her, and turn, eyes shifting from stall-to-stall as you decide which one you want to approach next. 

“You want me to carry that?” Mando says suddenly. 

You blink, not having expected him to talk. He'd been mostly quiet this entire time, although you imagined him sulking underneath his helmet as he waited for you to finish shopping.

“Uh- what?” you question.

He gestures to your bag, tucked under your armpit. 

“It's starting to get heavy. You keep rolling your shoulder,” he says, surprising you further. He'd noticed that? “I can take it. If you want.”

Bean squeals as a large bird flies over; his head resting back against Mando's shoulder as he peers upwards and babbles at it. 

You're still in shock and it takes you a moment to realise he needs an answer. 

And heck, he wasn't wrong; your shoulder _was_ aching. 

What harm would it do? 

You had your cash in your pocket so it's not like you'd have to ask him to stop every time you wanted to purchase something. 

“Sure.” Your insides feel warm as you hand it over. 

You expect him to hold it in his hand, but instead he slips it up his own arm, tucked under his armpit and _WTF_ you're not sure how he manages to still look like a complete bad-ass with a feminine bag on his shoulder and a tiny green baby tucked in his other arm, but he does. 

“Thank you,” you force yourself to say whilst your mind is reeling. He clearly doesn't give a shit about what other people think. 

And fuck if that doesn't get you hot and bothered. 

He simply shrugs. 

“Where to next?” He almost sounds reluctant, like he wishes this damn shopping trip was over already, and you hold back your snicker. 

You're about to tell him you're done now; you'd got mostly everything you'd wanted when a sign catches your eye, peeking between two stalls and located on a worn wooden board outside of a sand-brick building. 

**Mercenaries for hire**

“Um,” your lips part and you quickly avert your eyes from where you were looking behind Mando. You didn't want him to catch on. “Um. Can I just get something super personal, real quick? And I'll meet you both back at the ship? We can come back for the boots when they're finished.”

You wonder if he'll trust you.

But he'd have Bean with him. So surely he'd know you wouldn't run, or whatever.

(it went against everyone of your instincts to leave him, but you _needed_ to do this)

He's silent for a moment; the tilt of his helmet letting you know he was watching your expression closely. 

It made you nervous, but you tried your hardest to keep your expression neutral. 

“C'mon,” you nudge his armour with your knuckles _Please please please - I need to do this_. “I'll be, like, ten minutes. Promise.”

Suddenly, he nods, “Sure. We'll wait for you there.”

There's a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach as you watch him leave, and not just because of lying to him.

No.

It was more than just that. It was the familiar buzz, albeit weaker than last time, you suddenly realise was fading from the air around you, and you gulp. 

You _hadn't_ meant to. 

But you had a big suspicious you _might_ have just influenced his decision. 


	14. Chapter 14

You bite your lip, knee bouncing nervously as you sit at the edge of your bunk.

In your hand is a small, square tracker with a even smaller switch.

A switch, which, when turned on, broadcasts your location to the Kubaz mercenaries who'd then find you, and take you and Bean to a safe-place, where you'd offer further payment for their _long-term_ protection.

Pretty much your old arrangement with the Nikto.

You weren't sure it was the _greatest_ idea you'd ever had.

_But_ you needed the back-up plan. Should Mando ditch you and Bean on a planet in the middle of no-where, or hell, take you back to the Client.

You didn't _want_ to have to do this. But your trust in Mando was _zero_ at the moment. 

He'd forced your hand. It was his own fault, really, for handing you and Bean over in the first place.

And, anyway, you _could_ always get rid of the tracker as soon as you deemed him trustworthy again. Which you hoped would be _sooner_ rather than _later_.

Because, _boy_ , did you feel anxious as hell, keeping this kind of secret from him.

Which probably _didn't_ help with the way he stared at you when you walked back onto the ship.

It's like he _knew_ what you'd done.

Or he was suspicious about his sudden decision to trust you enough to shop on your own...

Though, you couldn't be certain you'd actually done anything, right? 

You still weren't entirely convinced it wasn't just Bean somehow projecting his powers through you back in the interrogation room.

Maybe it was just bad timing. Maybe Bean had been trying to use his ability at the exact say time you'd been talking with Mando, and you just got confused...

Well..

_Okay._

You were grasping at straws now.

But, _seriously?_

There's no way you had _powers._

You scoff at the thought.

And even if you _did,_ _somehow_ , use these _powers_ you weren't sure you even _had_ , it wasn't that big of a deal, _right?_

You hadn't _controlled_ him. Not like you did with that trooper. 

You'd just... tried to _convince_ him to let you go about your business. He must have already been on the fence about his answer, and you'd just managed to give him a little _nudge_. 

That's _all_.

He couldn't be angry about that, _right?_

Assuming he even _knows_. Because, like, how would he even _know_ you did _that?_

You were worrying for no reason.

Possibly.

_Hopefully._

_(though he did seem off before he left to go pilot the ship. His responses curt and distant, like he was trying to figure out the answer to a question he didn't know how to ask)_

Anxiety bubbles in your belly and you grip the tracker. You prayed your back-up plan didn't back fire. You did it with the best intentions.

And _hell_ , they can't track you unless you turn it on. Which you _won't_ do unless you get left behind. So it's fine. You didn't even give them your real name, or mention Bean. So what can go wrong about that?

You take a deep breath in an attempt to calm your nerves. 

_It's okay, Possum_ , you tell yourself. 

_Nothing bad has happened._

_You're just freaking out over nothing._

Suddenly, the ship quakes, and you grip the sides of your bunk. 

Frowning, you open your bond to Bean (you'd closed it as soon as you'd started having an anxiety attack so he didn't have to suffer, too) and immediately feelings of _joy, fun_ , and _mischief_ flow through you.

_Yeah..._

That abrupt movement of the ship was definitely something to do with the little monster.

You stand, slipping the tracker into your back pocket, deciding you'd spent long enough freaking out, and make your way over to the ladder. Poor Mando had been left with Bean in the cock—pit this entire time. 

Who knows what the little mite was putting him through. You snicker at the thought and head up.

–

“-ready to lay low and stretch your legs for a couple of months, you little womp rat?” you hear Mando murmur softly as you pull yourself up. The door to the cock-pit was open, allowing you to hear his conversation with Bean. “Nobody's gonna find us here,” he continues; you stop by the door.

You smile warmly, heart squeezing even more when you spot Bean in his lap. 

No wonder Bean was feeling so happy right now. 

“Find us where?” you question, leaning against the frame. 

If Mando is surprised by your voice, he doesn't show it. He flicks some switches as you enter the planets atmosphere.

“Sorgan,” he tells you over his shoulder. “A real back-water skug-hole. We should be fine here, for a couple of months.”

You wrinkle your nose at that. It sounded...well, _gross_. And wet. And dirty...

But you wouldn't complain out-loud. Didn't want to come across as _whine-y_.

“Great,” you say instead, but without enthusiasm. 

You can't be sure, but you _think_ , you hear him let out a breathy sound of amusement. 

But as quickly as it comes, it's gone, leaving you to wonder if it was just your imagination. 

You watch as the ship flies low; trees and, _ugh_ , ponds passing by in a blurry flash. 

You sigh. “I guess I'll go get our things together.”

–

You pack as many as yours and Bean's clothes as you can fit in your bag.

You wanted back up clothes in case you got wet. Or muddy. Or if it rained. Or if something questionable touched you. And then you wanted back-up clothes for those back-up clothes.

Y'know. _Just in case._

Your bag was way over-filled. You barely managed to zip it shut. It was busting at the seams. You were worried it might tear, actually. 

There was a reasonable sized hole down the back of your bed where you tucked your money into a sock and hid it. You didn't want to take it all with you – _what if you were robbed?_ \- so you decided to leave most of it behind and took the bare minimum.

If you needed more, you'd just have to come back to the ship. Or get a local job. Either one would do.

You fling your bag onto your shoulder and head back up. You reach the cock-pit just in time to catch the ship landing. Mando turns off the power, stands, and places Bean in the pilots chair.

Bean trills at him, cocking his head. Mando glances between the both of you. 

“Listen, I'm gonna go look around. It shouldn't take too long,” he says; you open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off. “In case it's _hostile_ , I need you and the kid to stay here,” he emphasises. “And _not_ touch _anything_.”

You huff, folding your arms. You'd just gone and got everything ready – and you were being told you stay behind? Not. _Cool._ “But-”

He interrupts. “I'll find us some lodging, then I'll come back for you once I know it's safe. Okay?” He says. You nod reluctantly and then he turns to Bean. 

You watch in amusement as he feels the need to tell the kid himself to stay put. 

He speaks slowly. “Did you get that? You stay. Right. Here. You _stay_. With her.” He points at you. “Understand? Great.”

Bean turns to you and trills. You shrug in response. 

Mando shuffles past you, and you wait until he reaches the bottom of the ladder before snorting and grabbing Bean off the chair.

He laughs, delighted.

“Stay behind?” you mutter, tickling his belly as you sneak towards the ladder. You head down it. “Yeah. _Right_.”

If Mando hears you, he doesn't turn. 

You tip-toe up behind him, putting your finger on your lips when Bean's eyes land on you. He mirrors the move back at you, though he doesn't quite get the whole lower two fingers and keep one up thing, so he just uses all three, but you understand the gesture, and you grin at him.

The ramp slowly opens as you stop just behind Mando, placing Bean down on the floor next to him before straightening up. You watch, holding back your laugh as Mando finally looks down.

Bean cooes at him adorably, tilting his head. 

He sighs loudly and glances over his shoulder at you. “Oh what the hell,” he mutters in a _what-could-go-wrong_ kinda way, before stepping onto the ramp.

“Wait!” you exclaim, turning back around and heading over to your bunk where you grabbed Bean's tiny boots. How you almost forgot them, _you_ _didn't know_. You turn and rush back over to them. “C'mere, Bean. This is gonna be so kriffing cute.”

–

Watching Bean try and walk in his new boots was like watching a new-born mammal try and take it's first steps.

And you couldn't. Stop. _Laughing_.

Bean's feelings kept swaying between excited and irritated. He liked the boots, but they felt strange on his feet. Probably weighed him down more than he was used to.

He walked in uneven strides, arms out as if to keep his balance. He spent most of his time watching his feet, the tiny black tips peeking out from underneath the bottom of his coat.

More than once you had to rush forward and guide him so he didn't trip over a tree root. Mando seemed equally amused as you, shaking his head as he watched the kid carefully over his shoulder.

_(it didn't go over the Mandalorian's head how the boots matched his own. The sight did something to his insides he wasn't sure how to explain, so he simply ignored it. Easier that way)_

The ship was parked directly opposite a busy hut, steam of some kind rising from the middle. It was located at the end of the clearing in the trees, and would have been a quick walk, if it wasn't for Bean, slowed even more due to his new-footwear.

Eventually you make it inside. It was busy. Lots of chatter. But friendly enough, you guessed.

Mando walked ahead; Bean in-between, and you at the back so you could keep an eye on him. In the middle of the hut was a cooking area. You catch sight of some noodles; also, some meat being chopped and then skewed. Two locals knock their drinks together before taking a greedy gulp.

Curiosity fills your bond, and you turn back just in time to witness Bean rushing over to a ginger Loth-cat. Your eyes widen and you dart forward, sweeping Bean off his feet with an _ahhh_ escaping his lips just as the Loth-cat went to lunge. You doubt it would have hurt him, but accidents did happen.

Once you're away from the Loth-cat, you place Bean back down. Not that you didn't mind holding him, but you wanted him to get used to wearing his new boots.

Shortly after, Mando finds you a free table. He pulls out a stool for you before picking up Bean - who giggles in delight - and placing him in his own one. You find that adorable – and amusing – for some reason. 

Bean was just a baby – he'd have been fine sitting in your lap. 

But no. 

Mando is considerate enough to give him his own seating. 

And you can tell Bean appreciates it too. 

He likes being treated like an 'adult' (which makes you laugh, because he suddenly wants to be a baby again whenever it comes to sleeping with you at night-time), and he even puffs up his chest a little, his tiny arm resting on the table when Mando sits; mirroring his position perfectly. 

_Gods._

Bean is _completely_ smitten with the Mandalorian.

It almost makes you jealous. Almost. But he was a boy, and it was expected for him to seek a male figure to look up to. So it didn't bother you. 

_(it may be childish and petty as hell, but you know you'd feel completely different had Bean acted this way with another woman; another motherly figure. Just the thought made your blood boil because Bean was your son and you'd happily slap a bitch who tried to come between that)_

“Welcome travellers,” a kind, soft, feminine voice greets you. You turn, finding a dark haired lady wiping her hands on a bit of cloth. “Can I interest you in anything?”

“Bone broth, for the little one,” Mando says before you can. Your lips part in surprise. Well...he's fitting into the role of Dad without even realising, isn't he? “And whatever my friend here wants.”

“Oh, well, you're in luck. I just took down a grinjer, so there's plenty. Can I interest you or your friend in a porringer of broth as well?”

“Not for me. Thank you,” Mando rasps.

“Do you have any pies?” you question. 

You weren't exactly hungry, but did fancy something sweet. 

She nods, smile friendly and welcoming. “Oh, yes. Our blackberry pie is famous around these parts!”

You smile back. “Sounds great. Thanks.”

“You're most welcome!” she says, but before she can leave, Mando speaks up, gesturing to somewhere behind you.

“That one over there. When did she arrive?”

You frown, peeking over you shoulder. A lady – a pretty lady - sat on her own in the corner; medium length dark hair swept over one shoulder as she drank, looking away from your direction. 

The waitress glances over too, before turning back. “I've seen her here for the last week or so.”

Mando doesn't move his helm from her direction. “What's her business here?”

“Business? Oh, well, there's not much business in Sorgan, so I can't say. She doesn't strike me as a log runner.” As the lady talks, Mando hands her some coins. She doesn't get the meaning behind them and you hold back a laugh as she continues gratefully. “Well, _thank you_ , sir. I will get that broth to you _as soon as possible_ , and I will throw in a flagon of spotchka just for good measure! I will be right back with that.”

She heads over to the kitchen with your order.

“Smooooth,” you comment, resting your chin on your hand.

Mando ignores you and stands. “Keep an eye on the kid.”

“Do I have to? Thought I'd let him wander and get eaten by a feral Loth-cat,” you call after him. Ever the sarcastic one, you were. You glance down at Bean who watches Mando leave the hut with a curious _eep_. 

You mull over Mando's words – _keep an eye on the kid_ (as if you wouldn't? But he'd felt the need to say it anyway?) - and think about his actions. 

Ordering a meal for Bean. 

Picking him up without a second thought. 

Holding him on his lap in the cock-pit. 

Talking to him as if Bean can understand his words.

It reminds you of – well, of _you._

You sigh, tapping the table, eyes flickering from where Mando exited the hut, to the little green Bean perched next to you. “I think you've found yourself a Dad, kid.”

Bean only cooes in acknowledgement – as if he's already aware.

–

A little while later Mando joins you, only he's not alone – the woman from earlier is with him and you frown, turning to glance behind you and - _oh_. 

You hadn't even seen her move.

You _really_ needed to start being more aware of your surroundings.

Bean sips at his broth. He'd wanted to go searching for Mando shortly after your food came, but you'd told him firmly to stay put, simply because you didn't know where to find him and didn't want to wander around a planet you didn't know. 

You were much safer inside the hut with the chatty locals and friendly waitress.

Your pie was half eaten by the time they came back. Mando fetched your new guest a stool, placing it closer to his own instead of the kid's. He sits and she does the same. They appear to be analysing each other.

“Hello,” you greet, unsure, your eyes flickering between them.

She gives you a once over which almost makes you flush. “Hello there.”

Was she flirting with you?

You couldn't be sure, but if she was, you were flattered. 

Smiling, you hold out your hand. “I'm Possum.” 

–

You nibble at your pie whilst her and Mando chat. Letting Bean have the odd bites here and there. You find out her name is Cara. They speak of Ex-Imperial Warlords and peacekeeping. Well, she does. Mando mostly listens. 

Probably fishing for information. 

Working out how much of a threat she is.

You mostly zone out. Wars and battles and fighting weren't really your thing, so you found it hard to follow. 

“How'd you end up here?” You hear Mando question as you give Bean the last piece of your pie. He opens his mouth and _ahhs_ as you feed him.

Cara sips at her own soup, ordered shortly after sitting down. “Let's just call it an early retirement.” Her dark eyes flicker over to you, the kid, and then back to Mando. “Look, I knew you were Guild. I figured you had a fob on me. Though, I admit, most bounty hunters don't exactly bring their family to work with them, but I'm suspicious by nature and didn't know if you were using them as a way to blend in or not. Anyway, that's why I came at you so hard.”

Mando nods. Doesn't correct her. “Yeah, that's what I figured.”

Cara stands, giving Bean a smile, which in turn makes you smile. Because even a bad-ass ex-shock trooper grew soft at the sight of him. “Well, this has been a real treat, but unless you wanna go another round, one of us is gonna have to move on, and I was here first.”

She sips the last of her soup and places it onto the table.

You're not sure why but hearing her talk of _going another round_ with Mando stirs at your insides in an ugly way. You didn't like the feeling. Like there was a knot inside of your stomach. 

_She means fighting_ , you remind yourself, _not **that.**_

_There's no way they did... **that.**_

“Hey, I'll take you on,” you joke with a forced smile before she can leave, chin resting on your palm as you push your now empty plate away. Because you needed to deflect. Pretend you were okay. Try and bury those feelings inside of you.

You liked Cara. She was a bad-ass female. You respected that. You weren't jealous of her being up-close and personal with your Mandalorian. _Nope._

Mando goes rigid. “Possum-”

Cara lets out a light laugh. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod with false-seriousness. “I'm sure I can get in a nasty bite. Or scratch. Before you kick my ass.”

_See?_

_You're not jealous._

_Jealous people don't joke around with someone they're jealous of._

“Biting, huh? Don't get me excited.” She sends you a wink before departing. 

Your laugh is genuine this time, jealousy forgotten; your insides back to normal. “I like her.” _And you're **not** jealous._

Mando sighs loudly. “You can't just threaten to bite people.”

_Oh come on!_

“I was joking! And she joked back. It's called _banter_ ,” you tease. “Don't go getting your... _beskar_...in a twist, yeah?”

He shakes his head and you smile, knowing just how much you were frustrating him. “You two finished?” he asks, changing the subject.

Your plate was empty and Bean had long abandoned his broth in favour of your pie. “Yeah.”

“Then it's time to go,” he says, standing. He picks up Bean, who cooes happily, and places him on his feet. Bean sways slightly, thanks to the new boots, and Mando waits until he's found his footing before he lets him go. “This planet is taken.”

You jump to your feet. “Oh you mean we _don't_ have to stay on the swamp planet? How _unfortunate_. My dreams are crushed; hopes drowned in a sea of tears; How _ever_ will I cop-”

“I get it,” Mando interrupts you, though he sounds more amused than anything. You follow him towards the exit. “But we need to lay-low. Which means planets that _don't_ attract passer-bys.”

“No spa resorts. _Gotcha_.” 

You make it outside, Bean waddling in front of you both. You adjust your bag onto your shoulder. 

Mando notices and reaches an arm around you. He grips the top of it and pulls lightly; you get the message and shrug it off, watching as he slips it up his own arm. 

You smile; he didn't even ask this time, just did. 

It was cute. Gentlemanly. 

But also...curious. How _comfortable_ you were getting with each other.

The tracker burns in your back pocket and you pray you won't have to use it because _this?_ Being around him; being _familiar_ with him?

It feels _right._


	15. Chapter 15

“Hey,” a familiar, raspy voice says gently. There's a pressure on your lower leg. “Possum. Up an' at 'em, kid.”

You blink where you're curled up on your side, in your bunk, with Bean next to you, snoring lightly on his back. His ear tickled your nose and you roll onto your back, stretching. 

Oh.

Mando's in front of you. Hand on your leg.

That must be what woke you. 

“Hey,” you greet, sleep in your voice. You sit up, rubbing your eye. There's a draft – the ramp is down, letting in air from the chilly night – and you pull your blanket up to your shoulders. Bean was okay – he was wrapped up in his own. “What's'matter?”

“I got a job. And lodging.”

Oh.

_Okay._

You blink lazily, still half asleep. “We leaving now?”

He stands up straight. “Yes.” Just behind him, you can make out two people trying to peek inside of the ship but Mando's figure blocked their view of you. 

_(you didn't know it, but he did that on purpose. Wouldn't let just anyone see you like this; all sleepy and soft and vulnerable)._

He continues. “I've already shifted everything we need onto the transport. Didn't want to wake you and the kid 'til I had to.”

“That's sweet. Thank you.” You smile at him sleepily. 

He nods once and then turns. The two guys scramble out of sight. Mando sighs and shakes his head before walking outside.

Blowing a piece of hair out of your face, you briefly consider laying back down and getting some more sleep. 

Because you were still tired. 

And your blanket was warm. 

_Unlike_ outside.

“Guess this means we're staying on the swamp planet after all,” you mumble, forcing yourself to grab Bean – gently, without waking him – and shimmy off the end of your bed.

Though, you knew you were being a little harsh; this planet didn't _really_ have swamps. It had lakes. You were just being bitchy, for some reason. 

Glancing down, you're surprised to find that you were dressed. 

And then, _duh_ , you remember how you'd fallen asleep trying to get Bean to drift off. You hadn't planned on going to bed. You were going to help Mando with some ship repairs.

_Well._ More like keep him company whilst he does all the work. Or pass him the tools. 

Simple stuff.

But Bean had started yawning so you laid with him while he fell asleep. You must have conked out with him. Which meant Mando must have found you like that because the blanket was _over_ you instead of _under_ you.

_See?_

How the _kriff_ were you meant to stay angry at him when he did stuff like _that?_

But...the betrayal was strong still. It stung. And you hadn't really spoke about it like you should.

Made you wonder if you shouldn't have stopped yourself from yelling at him that first night. Didn't want to build resentment. Maybe it would have been better to get it all out in the open as soon as possible so you could have worked on moving past it...

You sigh.

It was too late now. Maybe you'd bring it up again when you get the chance.

Or when you could no longer contain it. Y'know, the _healthy_ way to deal with things. Keep it inside until it burst.

You make sure Bean's blanket stays wrapped around him as you head outside. The two men were already in position at the front of the transport, Mando hanging by the back. 

Waiting for you, more than likely. 

Your eyes feel heavy as he helps you onto the back of it. You note that your bag was already on board, along with a lot of his stuff. Containers mostly. You settle next to them just as a quiet _coo_ comes from Bean.

You look down. He blinks up at you sleepily. 

You sigh; no doubt he'll stay up now. He'd already kipped for a few hours so he'd be good for a few more. He climbs off your lap, waddling over to Mando when he climbs aboard and settles a few feet away from you.

“I'll watch him if you want to get more rest,” Mando says, leaning back against the lip of the transport with one knee bent.

You frown at that, as much as you want to say yes... “Shouldn't _you_ get some sleep?”

“Not yet,” he rasps with a shake of his head. “Need to pick up Cara. She's gonna help me with this job.”

You want to ask _what kinda job_ but you're not sure you'd remember his answer anyway. You yawn, sinking down and placing your bag behind your head. 

“Okay,” is all you can manage. Though as soon as you say it, you can't really remember _why._

You're out like a light before the transport even starts to move.

–

You wake up before anyone else.

Bean's cuddled into your side. He must have fallen back to sleep at some point in the night. To your left, is Mando, legs crossed over one another and head back.

Resting on the opposite side of you, legs slightly bent at the knee, and eyes closed with her arm resting against her stomach, is Cara. Her hair looks redder than you remember; maybe it was the light.

You yawn, listening to the nature around you and feeling the gentle rock of the transportation. 

“Morning,” a male whispers from your right. 

Your eyes flicker over to him. You remember him as one of the guys from last night. He was wearing a beany hat, his smile friendly. 

“Morning,” you whisper back. 

“We're almost there,” his friend with the long, black hair tells you without turning. “I bet you're ready to stretch your legs, huh?”

Well. Now that he mentioned it, you were feeling a little cramped. “Yeah.”

Bean wiggles against you; you can feel him waking in your bond before you see his eyes open. 

Slowly, he begins to blink, and you smile down at him.

“Morning, Bean,” you say quietly. 

He trills sleepily, sitting up; you do the same. He glances around; warmth filling your bond when his gaze lands on Mando. And then Cara. His feelings aren't as fond, but he likes her well enough.

Turning back to you, he stands, wobbling slightly thanks to the movement of the transport. You steady him with your hands, not letting go until he's holding onto the lip you were leaning back against. 

He looks around, intrigued. Watching the scenery go by. Content.

Hell. You are, too.

Eventually you reach your destination. You see huts. Farms. Ponds. People.

_Children._

Bean's curiosity spikes at that.

Makes you wonder if he's ever had the chance to play with – or even, _meet_ – anyone his own age.

Or – _well_ , mental age. 'Cause y'know. He's meant to be 50.

You hear a faint _“Everyone, they're here!”_ and _“C'mon!”_ from them before they're rushing over. 

Excitement fills your bond as they get closer. Seems Bean is happy to meet these kids. 

Within seconds they're up against the lip of the transport, making you wonder when you'd stopped moving, because you hadn't even noticed.

“Hi,” you say, a little dazed and overwhelmed. You...didn't think you'd ever been greeted so warmly before. 

They all talk at the same time; you don't catch anything more than _“Hi!”_ and _“He's so cute!”_

“Well, looks like they're happy to see us,” comes Mando's familiar voice.

Unsurprisingly, the fuss had woken him up. You turn to look at him, noticing Cara out of the corner of your eye. You send her a smile.

“Looks like,” she responds, looking just as flustered by the attention as you felt. She smiles back at you, though still looks a little uneasy, and gives you a nod.

You turn back to the children. Unlike the rest of you, Bean was soaking up the attention. The children talk so fast; you don't even have a chance to answer.

“How old is he?”

“Is he your son?”

“Can I hold him?”

“Does he talk?”

“His ears are so cute!”

Briefly, you wonder why they all assume he's a boy. “I, um-”

“Kids, kids!” the man with long hair laughs. “Calm _down_. Don't want to scare off our guests now, do we? Let them breathe.”

There's a chorus of disappointed _aww's._

He chuckles warmly, jumping off the front of the transport and shooing them away before turning to Mando; Mando gracefully stands and hops over the lip, landing on his feet.

“I'll go let Omera know you've agreed to help us,” the older one tells him. “Then we'll help shift your stuff to your lodgings.” His eyes flicker to Cara hesitantly. “Will you be staying with them, or-”

“She'd like her own lodgings. Thank you,” The Mandalorian tells him, leaving no room for argument.

“Of course!” he nods, a little over the top. Doesn't seem to want to upset Mando, as if he might change his mind if they didn't do as requested. “I'll be right back.”

He leaves; you take that as your cue to stand.

Mando steps closer to the side of the transport. Offers you his hand.

You smile and take it. Let him support you as you climb out and steady yourself on the ground. You try and ignore how muddy it is and how you feel yourself sink a little.

It's little touches like that which make your day, as silly as it sounds. You still couldn't believe you could _actually_ touch him without having flash-backs. 

Or feeling cold, and numb, and sick. 

It was nice to be normal. To react normally...

_(maybe a little too **normally**...)_

Ignoring that strange fluttering in your belly – you hadn't eaten yet, you were probably just hungry – you turn towards Bean who leant against the lip, looking longingly towards the direction the children had run off to; though they weren't far. Still gathered around you, just not in a suffocating way like before.

Soon the man returns, requesting you follow him to your lodgings. He, and a few other locals, help with your things. You pick up Bean, holding him close and backing away from the transport which was suddenly crowded by people.

You don't know where it came from, but you suddenly _couldn't_ breathe.

So you stood back. 

Watched the children slowly move closer when the adults weren't playing attention. 

Held Bean like he was your life-line. 

You wasn't sure what triggered your extreme reaction. You were usually okay around men, as long as they didn't touch you. And even then, you kind of shut down. 

It was later the anxiety would come.

_...Assuming that was even your issue right now..._

“Hey, Possum,” Mando says, and you blink, realising he was right next to you. “Are...Are you okay?” 

“I, uh, I don't-” _kriff, what the hell was wrong with you?_ “My heart, uh, feels funny. Chest tight. I don't...” Wait. You'd had this before. When you were a kid. “A panic attack. I think. I don't know why.”

Bean meeps at you, ears turning downwards in concern. You can feel how worried he is for you and he turns his gaze to the Mandalorian. 

_Ehhs_ at him as if to say, _fix it._

“...You've been through a lot. Recently,” The Mandalorian rasps, almost sadly, with a hint of guilt. You wonder if he blames himself for this. “Sometimes, this is how your body copes. Can I – Will you – Is it alright for me to touch you?”

“Yes,” you say automatically. Almost as if you want it. “I mean, sure,” you try and say casually this time. 

Your heart feels like it's going to pound straight out of your chest. 

His hands gently come down on your shoulders as he stands in front of you. He squeezes them lightly. 

Trying to centre you. 

He aims his helm down. Towards you. Talks to you slowly, as if the others weren't there and it was just the three of you. Alone. Together. With all the time in the world. 

“Breathe slowly. You're safe, little one. There's not a single person in the galaxy who can get to you right now,” he tells you roughly. Squeezes you again. One hand slips to your neck. Warm; glove to skin contact. “Not without going through me, first.”

_Little one._

Your heart jumps. Seems to race even faster than before. 

That's what he'd called you when you were a kid. 

When he'd reassured you that the bad man was gone. 

It seemed only fitting, he'd use it again when trying to comfort you, now. 

Your eyes search his helm. You didn't even know if _that_ was the reason behind your sudden panic attack, or if it was because of the secrets you were keeping. 

Or how he'd left you behind. 

How scared you'd felt; how you hadn't dealt with it, yet. 

Or how you may or may not have abilities to _kriffing_ control people. 

Tears sting your eyes.

Oh _fuck._

Were you going to cry?

_Please_ \- No. 

_Don't you dare -_

Fuck. _There_ it is.

“Sorry,” you close your eyes. Look away from him. “I don't know what's wrong with me.”

There's a little pressure on your shoulder and you look down; Bean was pressing his hand against your shoulder too, fingers lapping over the Mandalorian's. 

Mirroring his movements. 

Like usual.

You laugh wetly. Heart warming, but slowing. The attack was ending. _Thank gods._

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Mando says firmly. Moving his hand and catching your fallen tear. His finger brushes against your cheek. And then he's stepping back from you. “This...this is my fault. Your reaction is normal. For what you went through. Because of me.”

Well.

You can't really argue against that. 

Because he _could_ be right. 

This could be an after effect from your time with the Client. Whilst nothing bad had happened to you there, it still haunted you. The things that could have been. 

The things you _don't know_ which might have happened to Bean. 

The fear you'd felt waiting in that room. Not knowing if Bean was going to die in any moment - 

_Waiting for your bond to be severed forever-_

You release a pained breathe. Feel yourself choking up again. You look down. Can't look at Mando right now. And then Bean is touching your cheek; once again copying Mando's actions and damnit, you weren't equipped to go from _blinding anger_ to _melting butter_ so. fast.

Bean cooes at you; unsure and sad. You press a kiss to his forehead. Remind yourself that he's okay. 

Calming down, you hug Bean close, nose against his head as you breathe in his scent. “It's not...just about _that._ ”

Mando appears hesitant. “There's more?” he questions roughly; almost reluctantly. “You said they didn't hurt you,” he states quietly. A tremor in his voice telling you he's not sure if he wants to know further details.

“They didn't. It's just- there's things-” you can't tell him. You wish you could though. Wish you could take some of these burdens off your shoulders. “Can...Can I trust you?” you ask quietly; looking up at him with watery eyes. “Trust you...not...to do that again?”

“You can.” His fingers twitch as if he wants to touch you again. But he doesn't. “I know saying it isn't enough. But I'll show you. I won't leave you or the kid behind again.”

You nod. Sniff. Look away, tears clinging to your eyelashes.

Don't know what to say to that. 

The tracker burns a hole in your back pocket, but you don't feel safe enough to ditch it yet. As much as you want to. It would be _easier_ to just trust him. To blindly jump into this new arrangement. 

And you probably would. If it wasn't for the kid. But you needed to think of him. To make sure he'd always be safe. 

You had to be _One-hundred-and-twenty percent_ sure before you relied on the Mandalorian completely. 

“I have your lodgings! I can take you there now, and you can meet Omera,” Says the man from earlier, rushing up to the three of you happily. There's a pause in his step when he sees the state of you. “Uh...should I come back in a bit?”

“No,” you tell him, clearing your throat. “It's fine. I'm just...emotional...to finally find somewhere safe for our kid,” you say without thinking, bouncing Bean on your hip. “It's been a long...week.”

The Mandalorian looks down at the floor. You don't miss the movement and wince. Hope he doesn't feel too guilty, even though it _is_ his fault. 

The man smiles and nods. “Well, undoubtedly, once the Raiders are gone, your son will be the safest he's ever been, here!”

“Oh I'm sure.” You force yourself to smile. You nudge Mando with your shoulder. “Come on. Let's see where we're staying.”


	16. Chapter 16

You stop outside of a large hut, Bean in your arms because you hadn't had a chance to put his boots back on yet. The Mandalorian stands next to you, holding a yellow container. 

The rest of your stuff was piled outside, thanks to the locals who'd helped you shift it. 

In the middle of the lodgings was a woman with long dark hair wearing a long-sleeved green dress; she was busy wrapping some rope around a hook on a wooden support beam. 

It must be this _Omera_ person.

She notices you both, still fiddling with the rope. 

“Please come in,” she says kindly. Though from the way she eyes Mando, you get the impression she's taken back by appearance. 

Which you understand. 

It's not everyday you meet a Mandalorian. 

Mando enters first, saying nothing in response. You follow behind him, bouncing Bean on your hip. She watches him closely.

“I hope this is comfortable for you,” she continues, eyes flickering over to you before landing on Mando's back. “I'm sorry that we all have is the barn.”

You blink at that. _The barn?_

That's _fine._

_Completely_ fine.

Your inner Princess _isn't_ curling up into a ball right now.

“This will do fine,” Mando tells her, placing the container down. You move so you're standing next to him, angled slightly in her direction because you didn't want to seem rude.

Unlike Mando. Who remains with his back to her...which was weird. _Right?_

He was usually so polite. Especially to women, from what you could tell so far. So you couldn't understand why he was being so – _Oh. Unless..._

You blink before narrowing your eyes.

Unless he was nervous. _Of her._

_Hm...Maybe._ Or you were reading too much into it.

“Yeah, I'm totally fine with sleeping in a barn,” you lie, remember the conversation. As if sensing your thoughts, Mando lightly nudges you with his shoulder.

She smiles, though it's a little unsure. “I stacked some blankets over there,” she says, gesturing to the side. 

“Thank you,” Mando tells her, removing his rifle and placing it next to the container. He kneels, ready to start unpacking. “That's very kind.”

“Uh, yeah, it is,” you smile at her.

Movement by the door catches your attention at the same time Mando stands; abruptly turning and shoving you behind him at the sneaky new-comer.

There's a gasp as the startled figure hides behind door-frame, out of view. 

Omera glances between the door and Mando, who was _clearly_ on edge, arm placed protectively in front of you and the kid. 

You wonder if your little break down earlier - and his promise to keep you safe - had put him on his guard a little more than usual. 

Your host heads over to the open doorway and pulls the figure to her. It was a young girl; a younger version of Omera, actually.

“This is my daughter,” Omera says softly with an even softer smile. “Winta. We don't get a lot of visitors around here. She's not used to strangers,” she admits, stroking her daughters long hair. She looks down at her. “This nice man is going to help protect us from the bad ones,” she tells her. 

That hits a little close to home, consider how Mando had helped _you_ with the bad man when you were a child, too. You smile sadly at them. 

“Thank you,” Winta says quietly. The back of Mando's head shifts as he nods at her. 

“Come on, Winta. Let's give our guests some room,” Omera says, throwing you both a warm smile before taking her daughters hand and leaving. 

You weren't sure what to make of them yet, but Omera had a certain...warmth to her. She was welcoming, and kind, and probably entirely too trusting.

You also weren't sure what to make of her... _interest_...in Mando yet, though. 

“They seem nice enough,” you comment.

Mando doesn't respond; heads past you to grab some more things. He comes back with a small wooden crib and you eye it in confusion because _that_ didn't come from the ship.

“One of the locals must have left it for us,” he says, placing it next to you. “That was kind of them.”

“Yeah,” you agree, leaning down and placing Bean in it; it was the perfect size for him, but you doubt it'd hold him if he didn't want to be in it. “Stay there for a bit, yeah? So I can help Mando with our things.”

He garbles and you take that as a _yes._

–

There's a familiar dull cramp in your belly, and it makes you pause where you were unpacking your things onto the bed.

The _only_ bed in the barn, you'd liked to add. But you'd worry about that later. 

You _huh_ to yourself. Grab your breasts lightly. 

_Ouch._

They _were_ tender. 

When was your last cycle? A couple of weeks, at least. 

You sigh, and think _great_ , because the last thing you needed was getting your period in a place like this, where you weren't even sure what kind of toilets were available to you. 

“Possum, you- _whoa_ ,” Mando starts, and then stops. You turn in his direction, where he'd finished unpacking and was in the process of taking apart his rifle, giving it a clean. You frown when you notice him awkwardly looking towards the door. Away from you. “Sorry. I didn't know you were - _Uh._ ”

Your eyes widen and you look down, where you were still groping your breasts. You release them and stare at the ceiling as if it would somehow open you up and swallow you whole. 

“I was just-” you start, but what the fuck could you say? 

_I was seeing if they were sore because I think I might be coming on my period?_ You weren't sure how well he'd take that. 

Considering the whole, y'know, _being a man_ thing. 

“There's no explaining this,” you admit awkwardly.

“It's okay,” he says. “It's none of my business.”

“My bra,” you blurt out, pointing at him, the thought suddenly occurring to you. “I was just adjusting. Forgot you were there. I'm sorry. Didn't mean to make it awkward.”

“It's not,” he assures you quickly. And then it's silent, and you cringe. “I can't remember what I was going to say,” he admits after a moment.

“Oh,” you say.

“Knock knock.” It's Omera and her daughter at the door. She's holding a tray full of food. 

“Hi,” you say a little too eagerly. Anything to move past... _that._

“Come in,” Mando tells them. 

Omera hands you the tray which you place onto the bed next to your things.

“Thank you,” you tell her. She smiles back at you warmly.

“You're welcome.”

You watch as her daughter fiddles with something in her hand, sticking close to her mothers side. She looks up at her eagerly, looking ready to burst. 

Omera smiles down at her encouraging. 

Winta glances between you and Mando. “Can I feed him?” she asks politely.

You hold back a smile at that, eyes cutting to Mando whose gaze was already on you. You shrug at him in a _what harm could it do_ kind of way. 

“Sure,” Mando tells her. 

Bean watches the girl approach him curiously. _Ehhs_ at her when she kneels in front of him.

“Are you hungry?” she asks, offering him something out of her hand. She brings it to his mouth, giggling when he accepts it. 

You grin at them. 

_How cute._

It was nice to see; him interacting with other children. And you could sense that he liked it, too. 

“Can I play with him?” Winta asks suddenly.

“Sure,” Mando says without looking to you this time. He walks over and picks him up; taking him out of the cot and placing him onto the floor.

Winta jumps to her feet eagerly. 

“Come on!” she tells Bean, rushing outside. Bean excitedly wobbles after her, _ehhing_ happily, and struggling to keep up.

Your eyes widen and you're not sure you like the idea of him out there, _without_ you or Mando, to watch over him. 

“Uhhh-” you say dumbly; at the same time Mando steps forward.

“I don't think-” he tries, but Omera interrupts gently.

“They'll be fine,” she says, looking between the both of you. Amusement twinkles in her eyes. 

It makes you pause. 

Makes you wonder if you were being a _tad_ bit overbearing. Most kids were allowed to play outside, weren't they? Then again, most kids hadn't been through the things _he'd_ been through. 

“I don't-” the Mandalorian starts again, but Omera only repeats herself, smiling.

“They'll be _fine_.” 

You take a step closer to Mando, gripping his arm without thinking. “We're just a bit...overprotective,” you offer.

You miss the way Mando looks down and stares at your hand; your tiny digits curling into the fabric of his clothes between his beskar. 

“I understand,” she says gently. “I brought you both some food,” she mentions unnecessarily, but you figure she's just trying to start up a conversation. “I notice you didn't eat out there.” That was true. You'd both been too busy unpacking. Not that Mando would eat in front of you, anyway. “I'll leave it here for when I go.”

“Thank you,” you tell her, glancing at Mando when he doesn't say anything. You raise an eyebrow when you see his helm angled towards your hand. 

_Oh._ You were still touching him. 

You remove it, hoping you hadn't made him uncomfortable.

The loss snaps him out of his trance and his gaze cuts to your face, before landing on Omera. He fiddles with the shock-emitter from his rifle, which he'd been in the process of cleaning. 

“That's very thoughtful of you,” he says, a bit delayed. 

She nods. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Are you two...” she looks between you, unsure. “together?”

“Uh...” your mouth opens and closes, and your eyes flicker over to Mando. You weren't sure how to answer her, and the persistent ache in your uterus was getting worse, making it harder to think clearly. 

“We...are,” he says, and you wince, because that didn't sound so convincing. He'd probably been just as taken back as you by the question.

“It's early days still,” you add.

“Oh,” she nods. “I see.” She pauses for a moment before gesturing to his helmet. “And that? Do you ever take it off in front of people?”

Mando doesn't respond straight away. 

“No,” he says evenly.

She frowns at that. “Not even her?” her eyes flicker over to you.

You bite your lip because you didn't know what to say. 

These were questions only Mando could answer. 

“No,” he repeats. 

She only frowns harder. “When was the last time you took it off in front of someone?”

You weren't gonna lie; her questions were starting to annoy you, simply because they were so nosey and personal, but you figured that Mando would tell her to buzz off, should she over step the line. 

He gestures outside of the window where the children were playing with Bean. “I wasn't much older than they are.”

“You haven't shown your face to anyone since you were a kid?” she asks next and you narrow your eyes because most people were aware of Mandalorian's and their ways, and considering her questions, she must know _something_ about them. 

So _why_ was she asking?

That feeling from yesterday, ugly and hot, rears it's head in your stomach and you try and push it away. She knows you and Mando are together. She doesn't seem like the type to try and get between that. 

So you didn't need to worry. 

_Right?_

And even if she did...What business was it of yours, anyway?

_Why the fuck did you care so much?_

If Mando is frustrated but her questions, he doesn't show it. “No. I was happy that they took me in. My parents were killed and the Mandalorians took care of me.”

Your eyes dart over to him, hearing that new piece of information about him. You weren't aware he'd lost his parents and you swallow guiltily, wondering if he thinks less of you, for leaving yours behind without a second thought. 

“I'm sorry,” she says softly. 

“This is The Way,” he responds simply. 

“Let us know if you need anything.” Looking between you both, she offers one last smile before leaving. 

“I didn't know that. About your parents,” you mention after she'd left. 

“It didn't come up,” he responds, putting the piece of his rifle down and glancing out of the window.

_True._

You sit on the bed, next to the tray of food. Pick at what looked like bread and brought it to your mouth. You give it a nibble and decide it's not too bad. You could eat it. 

“Do...Do you think bad of me, because I left my parents behind?” you question because the thought wouldn't leave you alone. 

His helmet snaps over to you. 

“No,” he answers, and then adds, “I think your relationship with them is...complicated. And just because you're blood, doesn't mean you're family.”

Right. 

He would understand that. Considering he was raised by the Mandalorian's, who often adopted others as their own. 

_(briefly you wonder if that's what he was doing with you and Bean. Two lost souls in need of protection he was more than willing to give. This is The Way)_

Suddenly, you feel silly for asking. Another thought occurs to you, and you cringe. 

“Bean's playing outside without his boots.” You stare at the wall with a haunted expression. “ _Oh no_. He's gonna get mud between his toes.”

If it wasn't obvious by now...mud and dirt was not your thing. Blame it on growing up in a mansion with 3 different maids.

At least back at the compound you only had to deal with sand. Sand was okay. It reminded you of the beach. _Dirt_ on the other hand...you'd rather not think about it. 

The Mandalorian shakes his head, shoulders shaking as he laughed quietly. “Careful,” he says, only half serious. “Your inner Princess is showing.”

You sigh. At least if Mando was aware of your Princess traits, you wouldn't have to worry about hiding it as much. 

“I'm gonna go watch over him for a bit.” You stand and stretch. _And find a toilet_. “Give you a chance to eat. I'll close the door- uhhh,” you glance towards the entrance, where there _wasn't_ , in fact, a door. You try not to cringe again. “-the _curtain_. I'll close the _curtain_. Behind me.”

“Thank you,” he says, amusement in his voice. 

Which was good. 

Because you tried _not_ to act like your mother; like things were _beneath_ you. Because you _wasn't_ like that. Which is _why_ you wouldn't complain, and you wouldn't _dare_ insult their way of living – _no way_ – but you couldn't help your immediate reaction to some things. 

You were just glad Mando seemed to find it funny instead of thinking you were a bitch for it. _You were_ , but that's not the point. 

–

Like you'd suspected, your period was here. You place the pad in your underwear and sigh, knowing it was going to be a uncomfortable week. 

Afterwards, you sit on the wooden steps and watch Bean play. The children loved him and he was glowing with the attention. Which made you smile, and you found yourself caring less and less about how dirty he was getting. 

The thought made you frown; remembering your own childhood and how you weren't allowed to play outside in your dresses, unless it was on your swing. It made you realise just how much her parenting affected you, even now. 

Not that you'd stop Bean from playing in fear of getting a little messy. No way – you wouldn't do that to him. Not like she did to you. Even if you felt like you were going to have an anxiety attack watching him.

But it did make you realise where your own issues with dirt and _keeping up appearances_ came from. 

Though, it's not like it wasn't obvious. You just hadn't had a reason to think about it before.

Well, _that_ and the other reason you'd rather ignore all together. 

“Hey,” comes Cara's voice from your right. “Mind if I sit?”

“Go head,” you tell her, shuffling over to make room for her. “How are you settling in?” you ask conversationally. 

She sits and shrugs. “I've lived in worse places. The locals are kind. A little...overbearing,” she admits. “But they mean well.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.” You watch as the kids dance around Bean and he tries his hardest to follow their movements. 

“So you and...” she trails off.

“Mando,” you supply, heart jumping nervously. Because you hope she didn't want too many details; You didn't want to say anything which could contradict something the Mandalorian might tell her.

She quirks an eyebrow at you, eyes flickering between you and the children. “You're together but...you call him _Mando?_ ”

You blink. Your eyes cutting to the sky. 

_Yeah okay._

That's probably kind of weird. 

“We haven't been together long,” you tell her, gaze once again on the children because you weren't sure you could sell your lie if you were to look her in the face. “He hasn't...grown...comfortable...enough. To tell me his name. Yet.”

Cara blows out a breath. “And that doesn't frustrate you? You don't even have a name to call out in bed,” she nudges your shoulder with hers teasingly. 

You laugh at that. Try not to blush at the thought of doing _that_ with Mando. 

“I knew him as a kid,” you tell her, feeling a bit more relaxed. “He did a job for my Dad. Um.” You lick your bottom lip. Pick your words carefully. “I thought he was the best person ever, not gonna lie. After he left I was obsessed with him.”

Embarrassing, but true.

“That's...completely adorable,” she comments. 

You smile. “Not the word I'd use. Anyway, I asked my Dad to tell me his name so I didn't have to keep calling him _The Mandalorian_ but my Dad told me he hadn't been comfortable enough to give one. Said _no one has said my name since I was a child._ And he left it at that.” 

_“Now, stop asking questions and run along, Possum. I've got work to do,”_ your Dad's voice fills your head. 

You shake your head of the memory. “Anyway. We recently...ran into each other again. And that's why I haven't pushed for his name.” You shrug. It was true. “If he wants to tell me, he will.”

“Huh,” she says thoughtfully. “What about the kid?”

You can't tell her anything about Bean– you don't know if she's trustworthy yet.

You bite your lip. _Although_ your instincts said you _could_ trust her, you wouldn't risk it. 

“I adopted Bean and...Bean adopted Mando,” you tell her, half-joking. 

Not exactly a lie.

Cara smiles at that; dark eyes twinkling. “That's so cute I want to vomit.”

You laugh. “Oh I know. Bean is _infatuated_ with him. Like the moment he saw Mando he was like _yup, that's my Dad right there!_ ” You both laugh at that. “I don't think Mando has quite caught on, though. But he's getting there. He acts like a Dad without even realising, I think.”

“Instinct,” Cara supplies. You nod in agreement. 

“Pretty much.” You get a particularly bad cramp and you cringe, placing a hand on your stomach.

Cara notices, eyeing you closely. “Are you...pregnant?”

You splutter at that. “Gods. No! I'm just on my period,” you lower your voice at the last part. You didn't mind sharing it with her. She'd understand.

She nods knowingly. “Ah. Bad timing, huh? You need any supplies? I got some back in my hut.” She throws her thumb over her shoulder, gesturing behind her. 

You smile gratefully, shaking your head. “Thank you. I appreciate it. I'm okay though - I've got some. But if you find I'm being a miserable bitch, you'll now know why.”

She winks, lightly banging her arm against yours. “I'm sure I can handle you.”

You snort, smiling at her harmless flirting. “Oh I have _no_ doubt.”


	17. Chapter 17

“ _Oh_ \- sorry.”

You turn where you sit on the edge of the bed, pulling your top down, your gaze finding Mando standing awkwardly by the entrance of the hut, helmet tilted towards the wall and _away_ from you. He looked torn between dashing back out of the hut, and staying put so not to make a big deal out of it. 

You smile at his awkwardness. And the fact he _looked away_. “It's fine,” you tell him. “I'm decent now.”

He nods, but still doesn't look at you as he makes his way through the hut and picks up his weapon, back turned to you. “I should have knocked,” he says. 

Bean trills from his place in the cot, happy to see the Mandalorian even though he'd only been gone for roughly thirty minutes. 

Mando continues. “I'll make sure not to forget in the future.”

“It's fine,” you stress, now dressed in your PJ's. It wasn't bed time yet but you wanted something more comfortable to lounge in. Being on your period did that to you. “It's just my – _y'know_. Nothing special,” you shrug, frowning. “You more than anyone should know how...ruined I am. Seeing me like that, s'not a big deal.”

_Ugh._ That had sounded a lot less pitiful in your head.

Mando freezes where he was in the process of shifting his rifle onto his back. Doesn't respond to you straight away. Makes you wonder if he'll even say anything when he finishes his movements and turn to you. Keeps his distance, though. “You - you're not _ruined_ , kid.”

You roll your eyes and grab a pillow, hugging it against your belly. “That's stupid to say I'm not, but I appreciate that you're trying to make me feel better. Or whatever.”

A pause. And then, “What happened to you wasn't your fault.”

You frown, blinking at him. “I know that. Doesn't change how...used I am now, though.” It didn't hurt you to say it. Or think it. It's just what it was now. You shrug again. “Let's just drop it, yeah? I don't want...pity.”

“Pi-ty,” he repeats as if he's testing the word. “It's not...pity. It's concern. I don't...want you thinking less of yourself like that. Your body isn't ruined, Possum. It's...” he struggles, most likely feeling way out of his depths here.

“Mando,” you say, amused. “Just drop it, yeah?” you tell him with a small laugh. 

He gives a reluctant nod. Taps his fingers against his belt. He wants to say more, you can tell. So you don't give him a chance to.

“Where you off to?” you question with faux cheerfulness, eyeing up the rifle.

“I'm going out with Cara. See if we can get a trail on the Raiders before it gets too dark.”

“Ah,” you nod just as Bean begins to fuss. You knew he would grow bored of that cot quickly. You stand and pick him up. “Well be-careful, yeah? I'm too young to be a widow,” you tease.

“We will,” he tells you, finally moving from his spot. He approaches you and the kid. Gives Bean a little stroke on the ear and receives a coo in response. “Stay safe. The both of you. I'll be back soon.”

Your heart warms and you hide your smile in your shoulder. “We will.”

He gives your arm a squeeze and heads to the door. He pulls the curtain back and pauses, glancing at you over his shoulder. 

“You _are_ special, Possum. And so is your body,” he says simply. “There's _nothing_ he could have done to you, to make you ruined. Or undesirable. Don't ever let him make you think otherwise.” 

And then he's gone, curtain swaying where he once stood.

You release a breath you didn't know you'd been holding, heart racing a mile a minute. Does that mean he finds you... _desirable?_

Warmth fills your belly at the thought. Your skin tingles. 

You're not sure why you're acting so strongly to what he said, but Bean must sense it too because he coos, tilting his head and placing his chubby three-fingered hand over your heart. 

You look down at him, and smile, putting your hand on top of his and squeezing. “Come on. Let's go and snuggle, yeah?”

–

It's not long gone dark by the time Mando returns. 

He creeps into your hut quiet as a mouse. You were awake, laying with your back against the straw-stuffed-make-shift bed, head on the pillow.

“I'm not asleep,” you whisper, because Bean was, curled up on your torso with his feet tucked under him, snoring lightly. “How'd it go?”

Lightly, he walks over to you, his figure barely visible in the gentle moon-light shining through the window. “May I?” he asks, voice low, and gesturing with his hand to the edge of the bed.

You nod and he sits, slipping off his boots before resting his elbows on his knees. 

“Not good,” he tells you after a moment, almost reluctantly. “The Raiders have an AT-ST.”

You wince, hearing that. “Ouch.”

“They'll have to leave their home,” he adds. “Two of us isn't enough man-power against a mek.”

You nod. “If they want their children to be safe then they have no choice.” 

“Yes,” Mando agrees.

You felt bad for them, but from a mothers prospective, there wasn't anything you wouldn't do – or be willing to sacrifice – to keep Bean safe. You suspected they'd feel the same way with their young.

Automatically, you look down at him where he was drooling onto your chest. The heat of his body was helping with your cramp, like a living heat pad, and you rub your hand absently up and down his back. 

“Oh, uh, here,” Mando says suddenly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a little bag made of cord. He hands it to you.

You pull it open. Inside is a bundle of small flowers with tiny, white petals. You look at him questioningly, heart racing at the idea of him giving you _kriffing flowers._

He rubs his gloved-palm over his knee. “Cara mentioned you were...in pain. So I spoke with Omera and asked what their women use to help relieve symptoms of their...menses.”

Oh.

_Uh._

You blink.

So the Mandalorian now knew you were on your period. 

_Great._

But at the same time, how kriffing _sweet_ was he, doing this for you? Approaching another woman with _that_ conversation, so he could get something for your cramps.

_Gods._

This. Man.

“Thank you,” you say softly, still a little shocked. “That's really sweet. Do I...eat them?” you ask, unsure.

“No. It's a tea. Two flower heads to one cup of boiling water,” he tells you, gesturing to the bag. “Would you like me to make you one before bed?”

_Fuck me,_ you think in disbelief.

No, no – _fuck this man_. Which is exactly what you had the sudden urge to do. And that in itself was strange. While you were familiar with your, uh, hormones (heightened even more during _that_ time of the month), you'd never actually had them _aimed_ at someone before.

Never felt the _actual_ urge to jump someone. Sure, you'd done it before, but you just went with the motions. Did what you'd read in the story books; pretended you felt what you were supposed to feel. 

But this? 

This was real. 

And it was _raw._

“Uh, y-yeah, sure,” you stumble out when you realise you were staring. “Thank you,” you add. Didn't want to be rude. You pass the flowers back to him and tuck your trembling hand under your thigh. 

He stands, holding the tiny bag in his palm. “You don't have to thank me. I'll be right back.”

–

The tea tasted like shit, but you had to admit, it did help relieve the cramps and even some bloating. 

You managed to convince Mando to lay next to you whilst you drank, Bean curled up on his chest so you could sit up against the pillows, between the Mandalorian and the wall of the barn. 

You spoke for a while. About how his tracking with Cara went. How he thinks she's trustworthy (you agreed with that). He admitted that he'd never stayed in one place longer than a few days - a week, tops. But he was willing to do it, for you and the kid. So you weren't spending your days cooped up in his ship(you found this crazy cute).

Once your tea was finished, he gently placed the kid on the bed between you and took your empty cup. He stood and piled it with the tray full of crumbs by the door, from dinner which you had yet to give back to Omera. 

“Where are you going to sleep?” you question because it was going to come up eventually, and you were tired. “I mean, there's only one bed. I don't mind sharing.”

“Possum...” he hesitates. You can just about make out his out-line in the dark.

“I won't take off your helmet or anything,” you ramble. “I know that it's important you keep it on.”

“It's not that,” he interrupts you. “I know you won't.” 

That warms you, knowing that he trusted you.

“I'm just...concerned,” he says slowly as if picking it words carefully. “You don't...look after yourself, like you should, and I'm not sure I can trust your...offer...because I don't know if you're genuinely comfortable with sleeping next to me, or if it's because you don't value yourself enough to keep yourself safe.”

You frown at that. “What do you mean? I know you won't hurt me.”

“Of course I wouldn't,” he agrees. “But when those Jawa's spied on you – you didn't care. When I walked in on you changing, you didn't care. I-I want you to start caring. About yourself.”

_...Right._

So he didn't want to sleep next to you because he saw it as another way you weren't caring for yourself – for your body?

You're not sure how you feel about this. It confused you. About why it mattered to him, how you treated yourself...didn't make sense.

“You know, if you didn't want to sleep next to me, you could just say so,” you shrug. 

It stung a little, sure.

But whatever. 

He sighs, loudly. “It's _not_ that,” he stresses. Steps towards you. “You're a vulnerable girl, Possum. And I'm not someone who will take advantage of that, or sit around and let others.”

_Vulnerable._

_Ugh_. Makes you sound so _weak._

But...

He wasn't _wrong._

Especially when it came to men. 

How you let them use you in the past. 

Let them take and pretend that you enjoyed it. Like they were entitled to you and you owed it to them to be good, _do as I say and don't tell anyone._

Why did you let them do that? Why do you think it's okay, every time you find yourself in that situation?

You wonder if you can learn to be stronger. To recognise it. 

Or, was it already too late for you?

“It's like, when a guy makes a pass, or touches me,” you say in a small voice, fiddling with the blanket. “With _that_ in mind...I...I go into myself, you know? Like they already have me and I just...go along with it. Like, I try and react how I think I should react, but I'm too busy trying to act normal, like how I think others would...I don't consider whether I should be doing it or not. And I just...can't trust myself to make the right decision.” 

You sniff, realising how emotional you were getting. 

Damn period. 

But can you really blame it on hormones? 

“It's later I regret it, but it's a cycle. Always hated myself after. Being stuck in that compound with Bean was...such a relief,” you admit in a single breath. “Because it was just us. No chance of me making any bad decisions.”

Why oh why were you telling him this?

He's gonna be disgusted with you.

But you can't stop yourself. 

Miss the way he flinches. 

“It's not enjoyable, for me. Sex, I mean. I just do it, for them, like he wanted me to.” You gnaw on your lip, and shake your head in amazement because - “But it's different with you. Every time we've touched, it's never felt like that. Like I'm about to be drowned. You're...safe. Warm,” you add quietly as an afterthought. 

He's staring at you. “I'm...glad.” His voice is tight, like he's a bit choked up at your story and you suddenly feel guilty because you weren't meant to lay that all on him.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I just – you say I'm vulnerable and yeah, you're right, but I _do_ know the difference. Or at least, I do _now_ because you've given me something to compare it to. So I can hopefully tell the difference, now. And I'll know better about making the right decisions. And to get away when those bad feelings come because I'll know they're not normal. I-I didn't know that before. I thought – I...didn't really know what I thought. I just-”

You force your mouth shut because you were starting to ramble. And you weren't sure you were even making sense at this point. But, hey, you long learned to stop trying to work out your actions and feelings because it always left you confused, and down. 

And whilst what you said was true, he _had_ taught you that touches didn't have to(and shouldn't) leave you feeling scared and cold, and later on used and dirty; The right kind made you feel giddy, happy, and a little bit fluttery inside, you still highly doubted there would be anyone else out there, other than the Mandalorian, who could make you feel like that. 

“Are...you certain?” he asks, still not moving.

“Yes,” you say firmly, and suddenly feeling exhausted. “Maybe it's...instinct...or because what you did for me as a child, but I do feel comfortable with you.”

He nods. “Okay. I trust that you're being honest with me. But if you change your mind and start to feel at all uncomfortable, you tell me. I won't be angry or offended. I won't even ask questions.”

“I will,” you nod back, heart racing excitedly at the thought of him being next to you. 

_All night._

_Protecting you and Bean._

You scoot over, bringing Bean with you so Mando has enough room to stretch out – he was bigger than you, and you wouldn't need as much space. The kid stays fast asleep, lips moving with his tiny snores as he remained conked out on his back.

You smile, kiss his forehead softly and curl up on your side, facing him with one hand tucked under your cheek. At the same time, Mando approaches, slowly, as if waiting for you to change your mind. You don't, and he gets on the bed, laying on top of the covers. He places his hands behind his head.

“Night,” you say, lips curved softly as you close your eyes.

“Sweet dreams, Possum,” he responds softly.

–

“Kid,” Mando grunts, voice full of sleep. A familiar baby giggle follows. “ _Stop_ – okay _._ _Okay_. I'm up,” he sighs. You feel the bed shift as the Mandalorian sits up.

You blink open your eyes, your gaze laying on Mando. You were on your side still. And you laugh quietly when you find Bean bouncing on his stomach, tiny hands gripping Mando's chest piece for support.

His helmet turns in your direction as if he senses your gaze before it turns back to Bean. “Now look what you did,” he says warmly. “You woke your Mum – _Uh,_ I mean your... care-taker.”

Your heart squeezes at being recognised as Beans mother. Not that you didn't already consider him your son – you just hadn't heard anyone else say it before.

Makes it feel _real._

“It's okay,” you reassure him, sitting up with your back leaning against the wall behind you. “It's nice. Being called that. I've been calling him my son in my head for so long...hearing it out-loud is... _wow_ ,” you breathe with a chuckle.

The back of Mando's head rests against the wall as he turns his gaze to you. “It's obvious to just about everyone that you're his mother,” he admits. “Aliit ori'shya tal'din; family is more than blood.”

Your eyes search the T of his helmet. “Is that your language?”

“Mando'a,” he says with a nod. 

“Oh. Cool.” You gnaw at your lip and then smile cheekily. “How do you tell someone to eat a dick?”

Mando huffs out a laugh, hands gently grabbing hold of the kids digits when Bean attempts to stand, wobbling on Mando's belly. He trills in delight. 

“Sooran Shebs*,” he admits after a moment. “Is the closest translation.”

You nod approvingly, repeating the words in your head. Without a doubt, you'll find a use for them. “Niceee.” 

–

There's a crowd gathered outside of your lodgings. You stay quiet where you lean against the barn, Bean on your hip. Mando and Cara speak to them; Mando bluntly informing them:

“Bad news. You can't live here any more.”

You snort and press your mouth to Beans head as if it cover it. 

_Could have worded that better, dude._

There's a shocked chorus of “What?” and “Why?”

“Nice bedside manner,” Cara mutters to Mando, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

“You think you can do better?” The Mandalorian responds.

“Can't do much worse,” she points out. You mentally agree, and decide not to let Mando be the bearer of bad news in the future, if you could help it.

Cara steps forward, demanding their attention.

“I know this is not the news you wanted to hear, but there are no other options,” she tells them.

You lean towards Mando and whisper. “That totally topped yours.”

“She...just took what I said but used more words and made it sound...fancier,” he argues.

“Oh, _okay_ ,” you say in a tone of voice that screams _yeah right, mate._ He nudges you with his shoulder.

“You took the job,” one of them argues.

“Yeah – that was before we knew about the AT-ST,” she replies, not hiding her annoyance.

“What is that?” a man asks. You recognise him from yesterday – one of the two men who brought you here.

“The armoured walker with two enormous guns – that _you knew about_ and _didn't_ tell us.”

The crowd begins to panic, erupting into pleas. You barely make out a few of them:

“Help us.”

“Please.”

“You're supposed to help us!”

“But we hired you.”

“Please!”

Omera speaks up, her arms wrapped around her daughter, in the centre of the crowd. Her voice stands out amongst the others. “We have nowhere else to go.”

You feel bad for them. You do.

But would they rather die?

“Sure you do,” Cara tells them. “This is a big planet. I mean, I've seen a lot smaller.”

“My grandparents seeded these ponds.” The other guy who brought you here speaks up. 

The one with long hair agrees, “It took generations.”

“Yeah, I understand. I do. But there are only two of us,” she tries to reason. And you find yourself feeling bad for Cara too, being put in their line of fire and baring the brunt of their emotions. 

“No, there's not-” he looks around at the rest of the crowd. “-there's at least 20 here.”

“Yeah!” the crowd agrees.

“I mean _fighters_ ,” Cara says, and you can hear how frustrated she's getting. “Be _realistic!_ ”

“We can learn!” One of them says.

“Yes we can!” Another agrees.

“Give us a chance!”

“Please!” Cara doesn't back down. “I've seen that thing take out _entire companies_ of soldiers in a matter of minutes.”

You don't understand why they aren't listening to her. You get that they don't want to leave their home but...is it worth dying over?

“We're not leaving,” Omera tells her firmly.

“You cannot fight that thing!” Cara tells her firmly, but softly.

Mando breaks his silence. “Unless we show them how.”

The crowd shouts in agreement. 

Cara turns to him, her expression full of disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” you frown, glancing between the two. “You really think you can show them?”

You're doubtful. They're just farmers. It would be like teaching – well, like teaching _you_. You almost laugh out-loud at the thought. 

“Yes. If they want it bad enough.” His helmet cuts over to you. “I've been meaning to teach you some things, too. How to shoot, for starters. Now will be as good as a time as any.”

Your mouth forms an 'O'.

_Well._

This should be interesting. 

\--

*** Sooran Shebs is not actual translation. I did try to look, but couldn't find anything :( so lets just pretend :3**


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello. Hi. Merry Christmas!
> 
> This chapter has actually been ready for agesssss now. I just forgot to post it here like I did with tumblr. Oops. Currently working on the next one, and I'm almost finished. Sorry for the delay, this year has been...crazy, to say the least. I'm planning to do as much writing as I can over the next few days, though. I have so much of this story planned out, down to the tiniest of details, so I really need to get a move on, especially now season 2 is finished and I can start working on fitting Possum into that!
> 
> Hope you're all safe and well!

What was once a wooden rack used for drying meat was now decorated with dangling pots and pans.

You stood in a line of adults, each of you holding your own blaster. The rest of the farmers were with Cara, learning how to handle make-shift spears.

You wish you had her as your teacher.

Having Mando watch over you was...nerve-wracking.

Because, _ugh,_ you wanted to impressive him and the thought of him thinking you were _weak_ or _incapable_ made your insides curl.

Which was stupid, really, when you remember how the others _needed_ to learn these skills quickly, ready to defend their home _tomorrow_ , whereas you had no such time schedule. You were not participating in this war – Mando made that very clear – you were just learning because it didn't make sense _not to._ What if you found yourself in a situation without Mando there to protect you and Bean?

The responsibility of keeping you both alive would fall onto your shoulders. Your heart feels like it's trying to jump out of your throat at the thought; anxiety bubbling inside of you. You take a deep breath and try to push it away. You'd managed to get Bean out of a sticky situation before, you could do it again. Only next time, you'd have actually practiced your shooting.

_(Unless Bean levitates them like he did the Mudhorn, giving you both time to get away. You imagine that'd be much more effective than anything you could do with your lousy blaster skills...)_

Your palms were sweaty as you held the blaster in both hands and took aim. Mando had already showed you the right stance, nudging your feet with his boots and gently using his hands to guide yours before stepping back from you. With your permission, of course.

You noted with delight that he didn't touch any of the others like that.

Just you.

Most of your shots missed. You exhale angrily in annoyance, which morphed into frustration when you noticed how well Omera was doing.

She didn't miss _any_ of hers. Mando had even given her the biggest weapon out of you all, simply because she knew how to shoot.

That didn't upset you.

No _pe._

Nu-huh.

_(okay maybe a little)_

_Ugh.._.You could deny it as much as you wanted, but you couldn't ignore how your insides went unpleasantly hot, watching the way _he_ watched _her_. It felt like you'd been punched with a burning iron fist.

You.

Were.

_Jealous._

Jealous of how he did that _stupid_ nod of approval at her; jealous of how _impressed_ he was. Jealous of the way he ducked his head close to her ear and said something which made her smile all flustered-like.

You huff, look away, and fire at your sauce-pan some more. It takes 5 more shots, but you manage to hit it, for the _first kriffing time_ since you'd started.

Your lips curl proudly.

Feeling a little less green, you glance over at Mando, who was still with _her_ , to see if he'd noticed.

He hadn't.

His hands are folded over his belt as he watches her hit her mark. The planets sun reflects off Beskar of his helmet.

Disappointment washes through you, and the jealousy resurfaces like a Bogling. Your shoulders slump, lips turning downwards.

 _What is the point in learning, if he wasn't watching you, to see if you were making progress?_ You wonder, feeling irrationally angry, but only to cover up the hurt.

As if sensing your gaze, he turns his attention to the line of people, his helmet seemingly landing on you, standing at the very end.

You look away, eyes on the ground, cursing at yourself for staring.

Who knows what he'd seen in your expression?

You know you didn't look happy, that was for sure.

Footsteps approach and you don't have to look behind you to know it's him.

His presence was thick like a blanket, warm and heavy. Admittedly, starting to become a little suffocating( _Why, oh, why, did it seem harder to breathe in his company?!),_ but familiar, now, the more time you spent with him.

“Everything all right?” he questions, standing just behind your right shoulder.

“Mm-hm,” you hum shortly.

 _Ugh. Grow up, Possum_ , you roll your eyes at yourself. At your response to him.

What was it about jealousy which suddenly made you act like a child?

He's silent for a moment but you can feel his gaze on the back of your head. “Possum?” he says almost hesitantly.

You sigh, blaster aimed at the ground, because you didn't feel like embarrassing yourself further. You try your hardest to push the green monster aside so you can act _like a kriffing adult!_

“I suck at this,” you tell him quietly; miserably. _Damn hormones making everything seem worse than it was..._ “I've only hit it _once_.”

Mando doesn't share you opinion. “You hit it? That's great! Good job,” he pats your shoulder, his touch lingering. “I...I'm sorry I missed that. I-”

Before he can continue, you cut him off.

“You were talking to Omera. It's okay,” you say, and you _wish_ this didn't happen whilst you were on your period; whilst you were PMSing like hell, because you _know_ you could have handled this better. Or at least, you _hoped_ you would have. “She's pretty-” you raise your blaster and shoot. Miss, yet again. “-independent-” another shot missed as you spit the words, “-ridiculously kind-” and _again_. “-must be hard for a man to _resist._ ”

The next shot skims the very corner of the pan and you pause. It wasn't a direct hit, but it was better than most of your shots.

Mando glances at the pan, and then at you, and then repeats the movement. Like he's wondering if he should praise you for your shot...or take the gun away from you completely.

“I _don't_ find her hard to _resist,_ ” he says, at length. “I admire her skills-”

You groan internally, rolling your eyes.

 _Gods, just_ _**gush** _ _over her, why don't you?_

“-but that's as far as my... _admiration_...goes,” he finishes firmly. “If you're...concerned about her catching my interest...you don't need to be.”

That helps. His reassurance makes you feel lighter, the jealous dissipating but you have a feeling it won't be staying gone.

You won't admit that's what's bothering you, though.

“No,” you mumble in denial. “I'm just-” you interrupt yourself, something very intriguing occurring to you. You eye him, impressed, and muse, _“You know..._ you're handling my mood-swing _really_ well.”

Did he have practice with this kind of thing?

“I grew up in close quarters with Mandalorian women,” he tells you. “The men learned very quickly not to react or question the women during their menses. And also, to provide pain relief. And chocolate, when possible.”

“Huh.” That was kind of cute. And hilarious.

His helmet turns towards your target. “That's two hits now,” he says. “You're getting better. Let's try and double it.”

Despite how nervous you feel with his attention completely on you, you _do_ find yourself concentrating better now he was no longer lingering around Omera, and you even manage to hit another 7 shots before he calls it a day.

–

After target practice, you run off and find Bean whilst Mando helps the village prepare traps and defences. You didn't expect to see him again until tonight.

Bean was with one of the elders, along with the other children. You stay with them for a while, simply because Bean was having fun. He even managed to capture himself a frog for lunch.

The day passes quickly. You helped out where you could, in between checking on Bean, because you weren't used to _not_ being around him at all times. Dinner time arrives and everyone takes a break. Including Mando who eats in the privacy of your hut, whilst you sat outside with Cara, eating your own food.

You watch as Bean sits in a circle with his new-found friends, all of them eating together.

“You know...” Cara starts, and then stops, sighing. “I'm not going to lie, I have no idea how to bring this up, so I'm just gonna come out and say it.”

You frown, nibbling on your bread which you'd dipped in your stew. “What's up?”

“Mando told me about your childhood abuse,” she says in one breath.

You freeze. “... _Oh.”_ You nod. “And?” you ask curiously.

She's taken back by that, eyebrows furrowed. “You're not mad?” she questions, sounding surprised. “That he told me?”

You shrug. “I doubt he told you out of gossip, or whatever. He must have had a reason. Plus, I'm used to people knowing. My entire town knew. It wasn't a secret.”

Cara frowns. “That...must have been rough.”

“I guess.” You'd just got on with it. School had been horrid; the rumours, the teasing (“E _ww that's the girl who got touched by her Dad's friend!”),_ but you hadn't known a different way of life. You'd hardened to it. And then Bean came and...life got better. “Why'd he tell you anyway?”

“He's concerned about you,” she admits, and you nod, because you'd already guessed that was the reason. “And after hearing what he had to say, I am too. How didn't you floor those Jawa's for spying on you?” she sounds shocked.

“Uh, I uh. I don't know,” you admit. “It's just...not my reaction, I guess.”

“Well you should've,” she tells you firmly. “And anyone else who does it. Or touches you without your permission. Or makes you feel uncomfortable. Okay? You _punch the force light out of them_.”

You almost laugh at her. And you probably would have, if she didn't look so serious. “Okay,” you agree. “I mean, I'll try. If I remember.”

And you meant it. Because you didn't want to be that girl any more. But until you were in that situation, you didn't know how you would react.

“No. _No_. Not _try_ , you _do,_ ” she says. “You don't like how someone's looking at you? D _on't even think_ , just break their face. And those guys who took advantage of you, _suck_. If I'm ever with you, and you see one of them, let me know, yeah? So I can teach 'em a lesson.”

You quirk an eyebrow at her, not understanding why she was so angry at them. “It's not their fault. They didn't force me or anything. I said _yes._ ”

Cara only shakes her head. “Honey, _trust me_ , when a girl is into it, you _know_. And when they're hesitant or unsure, _it shows_. Only asshole's ignore the signs so they can get laid.”

You guess that made...sense? “Oh.” You're not sure what else to say, mind reeling. Could they really have known you weren't into it? They'd never stopped and asked, then again you'd got really good at putting on a show, pretending to feel things you didn't, so maybe you were just a good actress?

“Mando wanted me to ask...” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “This is going to sound ridiculous, because you two are a couple and I don't know _why_ he's getting me involved in your business, but are you comfortable sleeping next to him? He said you've never shared a bed before and he's concerned he's taking advantage.”

“ _Yes_. It's _fine_. Jheez he worries too much.” you shake your head, half wondering how the kriff he approached her with this conversation. “I told him this last night. He doesn't make me feel like other men do. I feel _safe_ with him. It's why I like him,” you add, trying to stay true to the whole _relationship_ thing.

“Yeah, well, I don't blame him, from what he's told me,” she mutters. “Look, we're gonna be hanging around each other for the next few days. I'll teach you some things. Hopefully rub off on you.”

You smile cheekily, bumping shoulders with her. “Rub off on me, or _rub off on me_...” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively.

She laughs. “As much as I'd love to do both, I think your Mandalorian would kick my ass for touching you. Or at least, try to kick my ass. Because we both know I can take him.”

–

Later that night, Bean was fussing like crazy.

You were trying to get him settled but he just wouldn't close his eyes. Mando was still out, helping the farmers get everything ready for tomorrow night. Which left you alone with a whinging baby.

“Come lay down with me,” you try and reason with him from where you laid on your side, petting the free space next to you.

He _ehhs_ unhappily where he sat, facing you, his little feet poking out of the bottom of his tunic. Glancing towards the door covered by the curtain, he stands, attempting to waddle off of the bed.

“No, Bean,” you sigh, reaching forwarding and grabbing him by the back of his clothes. You pull him to you. “It's _bedtime.”_

He shakes his head, his ears flopping with the force of it. And then he _ehhs_ at you, loudly.

“ _Ehhh,”_ you say back at him, making a face, before sighing again. “I can make that noise too, ya know.”

“Doesn't sound as cute as when the kid does it, though,” comes Mando's voice. He steps inside, making sure the curtain is covering the entrance.

“Hey,” you frown, only slightly offended, because it _had_ kind of sounded like a dying loth-cat.

Bean chirps, ears perking up. He waddles towards the edge of the bed but before you can grab him, Mando steps forward and picks him up.

“Hello, little one,” he rasps, warmly, but tired. The kid coos in reply, resting his hand on top of Mando's

You sink into your pillow, crossing your arms over your chest. “I'm sensing some favouritism here,” you mutter, pouting slightly.

Okay, so you were slightly jealous but the question was – _of which one?_

“Don't be ridiculous. The kid is crazy about you,” Mando scolds you lightly, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing the kid next to him so he can remove his boots.

Bean scoots himself forward until his tiny feet are peeking over the edge, mirroring Mando's position. His head tilts, watching Mando's movements closely.

You smile, your insides warming. You couldn't get over how _cute_ they were together. Every time it just...blew you away. Made your heart skip a beat. 

“You ready for tomorrow?” you question as he places his boots neatly beside the bed.

“I am.” He picks up Bean and places him next to your hip so he can turn and get settled. Still, Mando didn't go under the covers but remained on top of them. His helmet covered head rests against the wall; upper back supported by a thin pillow. “I just...hope they know what they've signed up for.”

“They're...eager to learn. That's for sure,” you comment.

Bean stands and waddles towards the pillows. You smile at him and pull back the covers so he can get under them. He coos, shimmying himself down so his head rests against the pillows and you help him with the covers.

Both you and Mando watch as Bean gives a little yawn and blinks sleepily, now happily settled between you and the Mandalorian. His eyes fall shut with a gentle sigh and you blink, wonder _why_ the sudden change considering how desperate he was _not_ to sleep just moments ago.

“They're doing well with their training,” he says in agreement. “But it's different when it's the real thing. When it's right in front of you and there's no turning back. Hopefully the urge to protect their home will be stronger than their fear.”

“Well, what do you think?” You ask, getting settled. Your cheek brushes against the pillow as you glance over at him.

His helmet turns in your direction and he's silent for a moment. 

When he speaks, he picks the words careful. Says them with more meaning than you'd have expected.

“I think they're strong, and stubborn, and they'll fight for what they love. They won't back down, not with so much at stake. And in the end...they'll be just fine,” he doesn't move his gaze. His voice lowers, “Reminds me of someone I know.”

Your heart pounds in your chest and you hold your breath. Was he talking about _you?_

 _Oh boy_ _what a compliment that is,_ if it _is_ you he's referring to.

“Me?” you whisper, unsure whether you even should have asked. Your eyes flicker between where his hid beneath the Beskar.

Mando's helmet tilts, fingers tapping against his thigh. Your insides flutter and you have the urge to lean forward and place your lips against the place where his mouth is...

And then just as quickly, he ruins it.

“No. I meant Cara.” His voice breaks in a way which tells you he's messing with you, and you glare at him.

“Asshole,” you mouth at him, not wanting the kid to hear.

His shoulder shakes as he laughs, soft exhales escaping his helmet.

You rolls your eyes, but can't stop yourself from laughing with him.

_This guy. Unbelievable..._

–

You're woken up the next morning in pretty much the same manner you'd been woken up by the day before; Bean jumping on Mando's stomach with Mando pretending to be angry about it.

The sight puts you in the best mood, despite your morning cramps which felt like someone had punched you in the uterus. You'd make one of those tea's to get you through once you'd got out of bed. Although, if it was anything like yesterday, Mando would already have one waiting for you by the time you got back from the restroom.

It doesn't take long for your mood to turn sour.

Once you'd all climbed out of bed, a dark circular shape catches your eye on the sheets and you do a double take, a sinking feeling in your stomach...

You leaked through.

_Dear gods... **you'd leaked through.**_

“Shit,” you breathe, knowing that if there was a stain _there,_ there was also one on the back of your PJ bottoms.

Was it possible to die of embarrassment?

You want to cry. Not only did you have to deal with cramping, you needed to fix this. Somehow. With _Mando_ in the room. Because you couldn't handle it if he saw...well, _that._

Unfortunately, you were so busy panicking and trying to think about what to do, you didn't hear Mando approach until he was already behind you.

“-going to get breakfast. Do you want me to make you a tea?” He says.

You turn, startled, hoping he hadn't noticed the blood stain on your pants...or the more visible one, direction behind you.

Fuck.

“I, uh,” you stumble. Can't remember what he'd said. Should have thrown the blanket over it, _dammit_.

He passes Bean over to you and tilts his helmet. “Are you-” he goes to ask, but something catches his attention. You don't have to see his eyes to know that he's noticed the sheet. “Ah,” he says with realisation.

Your eyes fall shut, cheek turning red. “I'm _so_ sorr-” you automatically begin. He cuts you off.

“Don't apologize for things you can't control,” he scolds lightly. He holds out his hands. “I'll look after the kid if you want to get cleaned up. I'll even change the sheets and have some tea ready for when you get back. How's that sound?”

You blink, lips parted, and you don't know whether to cry or hug him. Because he took control at the perfect moments, when you were a little too overwhelmed to know what to do, and he just...made everything so easy. And better.

“That'd be...great,” you choke out, passing Bean back to him. “You don't have to change the sheets though. It's pretty gross... I can do it. It's my mess,” you find yourself babbling.

His helmet tilts at you. “...I'm a bounty hunter and a Mandalorian. Do you really think a bit of blood bothers me?”

“...No,” you admit.

“No,” he agrees.


End file.
